


graveyard boy

by nasasingular



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bang Chan is a Sweetheart, Ghosts, Halloween, Hwang Hyunjin is Whipped, Hwang Hyunjin-centric, M/M, Paranormal, Slow Burn, Warlocks, Witches, a lot of other things will happen but i don't wanna give away the plot, and has personal problems, but for a reason, chan is weird, hyunjin sees ghosts, like really slow burn, sorry - Freeform, you'll find out eventually lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:20:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 54,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nasasingular/pseuds/nasasingular
Summary: Meet Hyunjin, a weird teenage outcast who likes ghost hunting with his friend Heejin. He makes a discovery that leads him to Ms. Glass, the creepy, old woman who lives at the end of his street, but who helps him figure out what's going on with him. Hyunjin feels a connection to a guy named Chan but soon finds out Chan might not be all he seems. Hyunjin has decisions to make and must stay in the light for the sake of the world. No pressure, right?where hyunjin meets a strange boy in a graveyard one halloween night, only to become a sudden ghost magnet and find out he isn't exactly who he thought he was.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Hwang Hyunjin
Comments: 70
Kudos: 121





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> not @ me posting a halloween story in the middle of spring lmaooooo but yeah you might wanna read this when it's dark outside just to set the right mood lol

**_Halloween Night_ **

I didn’t want to be there.

Not just at the party, surrounded by a bunch of kids my age who didn’t know the meaning of personal space, but in general. I didn’t want to be anywhere really. My best friend Heejin wasn’t there; her mom had wanted to go to the movies to see some new romantic comedy, and I didn’t have many other friends. It was a miracle I’d even been invited to the party.

Lee Minho, the captain of the football team and hottest guy in school, had invited everyone from our class. He was nice and didn’t let his popularity go to his head, unlike some of his friends.

Around me, the house thumped with the bass from the rap song. Some guys laughed as they tossed a ball in a red cup and then the guy opposite them downed the contents of said cup. Girls danced with each other, wearing costumes that made me blush for them. Most of us were underage, but that hadn’t stopped them from getting their older siblings to buy alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

I sighed and took a drink of my diet Coke.

My heart was heavy with grief. Dad had been gone for four months, and each day without him was a struggle. I often found myself getting excited when I heard the phone ring, only to remember he’d never be calling me again. No more letters, video chats, or warm hugs when he returned home from a long deployment. We’d never get to watch scary movies together again, and I’d never be able to tell him about my day or hear about his.

So, no. I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate Halloween or any other holiday.

I just wanted to be alone.

Knowing I wouldn’t be missed, I decided to leave the party early. Before I walked out the door, Minho caught my eye and waved. I returned the gesture, not sure why he even bothered to acknowledge me. His dark hair was sticking straight up and black paint was around his eyes. I think he’d said he was supposed to be some kind of zombie football player or something, but I couldn’t remember.

I’d come as a ghost…which seemed fitting because mostly everyone looked right through me, as though I wasn’t there. One girl bumped into me and didn’t even falter in her step.

Once outside, I breathed in the fresh air, loving how crisp the night was. I didn’t know where I was going, but my feet carried me down the sidewalk and farther away from the booming party. Eventually, the sound became muffled and faded.

I couldn’t go home. Mom was having her friends over for game night and had told me to find something to keep myself occupied until at least eleven. I checked my phone, seeing it was only nine-fifteen. Great.

I texted Heejin.

**Me:** i hope you’re having fun with your mom. the party sucked btw. i just left.

**Heejin:** sorry i couldn’t be there, jinnie. the movie is great so far! xoxo

**Me:** are you one of those annoying ppl who texts during movies?

**Heejin:** shut up. love u.

I headed for the outskirts of town. It was dark, and yeah, I was kind of spooked by it as I went into a more secluded location. Common sense screamed at me, reminding me that that’s how people died in horror movies, but I shrugged and kept walking.

The view was worth it.

Once I passed the historic district downtown, I kept walking until I came across the graveyard. Mist slowly drifted in the air above one of the graves, and before I could get too excited, I remembered that the weather guy had said heavy fog was expected for that night. So it wasn’t a ghost.

Finding the entrance, I unlatched the gate and stepped inside.

I guess I should explain that I wasn’t normal. Hanging out at a graveyard on Halloween night—alone—wasn’t something the average kid did. Ghosts didn’t scare me, though. Well, the thought of ghosts, because I’d never actually seen one before.

People were much scarier than any ghost.

I walked through the cemetery, careful not to step on any of the graves. Some of them weren’t clearly marked and only had a small rock or something as the marker. I walked until I found the one I was looking for.

_Hwang Junsu_

_Born May 6th-1970_

_Died June 20th-2019_

Dad’s grave was in the most beautiful spot in the graveyard. A willow tree was beside it and up ahead there was a bluff that gave an amazing view of the river and lights from across town.

I touched the headstone as tears welled in my eyes.

“Happy Halloween, Dad,” I said as my vision blurred. “It’s weird not having you here. No. More than weird. It’s lonely. Mom just doesn’t get me, you know? Sometimes I feel like she doesn’t even try to.”

A small breeze ruffled my light-brown hair and a shiver passed through me. Feeling like I was being watched, I looked over my shoulder. No one was there; only rows and rows of graves and the scattered benches along the paths for visitors to sit.

A twig snapped.

I jerked upward and searched the dark. It could’ve just been an animal.

Right?

“Is someone there?” I asked, knowing how stupid it was. I mean, if it was a serial killer, they wouldn’t exactly be like _‘Oh, hello! I’m here to make a coat of your skin. How are you?’_

“Hello,” a voice answered.

I screamed.

“Please do not be frightened,” the voice said, and then out stepped a boy who looked to be around my age. When he walked closer and came into the light from the lamppost, my jaw hit the ground.

He looked to be a little shorter than me and had short platinum-blond hair, blue eyes, and his skin was pale, but the kind of pale that reminded me of a porcelain doll. The dude was freaking hot.

“Hi,” I said, definitely not afraid anymore.

Then it occurred to me that he was walking around in a graveyard by himself. He had to be a psycho. But then again, so was I, so whatever.

“I apologize if I interrupted you,” he said, now only a foot away. He was wearing a black coat that nearly touched his knees, a white collared shirt, tie, and some kind of black hat. He must’ve just come from a Halloween party too.

“Why are you lurking in a graveyard so late?” I asked.

“Why are you?” he countered before giving the type of smile that made the butterflies in my stomach go wild. “I’m visiting my mother.”

Pain flashed in his eyes before he took his hat off. He reminded me of a guy from the early 1900s who’d just come from a fancy party. All that was missing was the beautiful, classy woman on his arm. And the black and white setting. Which since it was dark, it kind of looked that way.

“Sorry you lost your mom,” I said, moving my gaze back to my dad’s grave. “I lost my dad. Halloween was always so fun for us. We’d eat a bunch of junk food and have scary movie marathons.”

“I am sorry to hear of your father’s passing,” he said. “It never gets easier, I’m afraid. You learn to carry the grief, but not rid yourself of it completely.”

“How long has your mom been gone?”

A sad smile touched his lips. “Too long.”

“Since we’re here together anyway, would you like to sit with me?” I asked, motioning to one of the benches.

He nodded. “Of course.”

Admittedly, it was odd to meet a stranger in a graveyard and then sit with him to chat like we were good ol’ pals. However, I felt a certain calm in his presence. It was hard to explain, but I was drawn to him.

“May I ask your name?”

“Hyunjin,” I answered, sitting beside him on the bench, so close that our legs almost touched, but not quite.

“I’m Chan.”

_Chan._ I stared at Dad’s grave, and Chan stared somewhere to the right, perhaps to where his mom was buried. Minutes passed, and as they did, the weather became even colder. My ghost costume was just a hoodie and jeans, and I’d painted my face white. A small trickle of blood oozed from the corner of my mouth, and I’d done my best at creating a wound on my forehead.

“What are you dressed as?” Chan asked, cocking his head at me.

“A ghost,” I said.

Something about my answer amused him, and he averted his gaze to his lap, smiling.

“What?” I asked with a light laugh. “I know I’m not, like, an amazing makeup artist, but I did okay.”

“You did wonderful,” he said, still with that amused gleam in his eyes. His jawline was so sharp it could cut glass. His lips were full, and even in the dim light, I saw his long lashes.

“What are _you_ supposed to be? A Frank Sinatra look alike?”

With a furrowed brow, he stared at me. It was almost as if he was running the name through his head. He _seriously_ didn’t know who Sinatra was?

“Never mind,” I said.

We didn’t say much else, but the silence never felt awkward. The night grew colder, and as more time passed, I stood from the bench.

“Do you want to go grab a coffee?” I asked, rubbing my hands together and blowing out a breath, seeing it fan out in front of me.

Chan slanted his head. “You wish to have coffee?”

“Yep. I’m freezing.”

His gaze flickered to my hands before returning to my face. He didn’t seem cold at all, apart from the paleness of his skin, but that probably had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with his avoidance of the sun.

He stood, and once again I noticed the height difference. “Coffee sounds lovely.”

The graveyard was located more in the outskirts of town, but it wasn’t too long of a walk back to Main Street. As we headed that way, Chan walked close to me, and I got hints of what must’ve been his cologne. He smelled a little sweet and a bit spicy, combined with something earthy, like the smell in the air after rain.

I loved the smell, and moved even closer to him.

In a perfect world, I’d maybe grab his hand. But the reality was I’d probably get punched if I tried something like that. Also, I wasn’t _out._ Only Heejin knew I was gay, and that’s only because she found a picture of a shirtless Jensen Ackles on my phone, and I’d had to explain.

Once we got to Main Street, we walked down the sidewalk, passing stores and restaurants on the strip.

Chan looked at everything, the streetlamps, cars as they whizzed by, and groups of people ambling by in costumes. He seemed curious, and while he studied our surroundings, I studied him. The lighting from the streetlights and stores helped me see him even better, and I was still a bit stunned.

Guys like him didn’t exist. Especially none that I’d seen in this town.

Arriving at the coffee shop, he opened the door and held it open for me. It was so gentlemen-like, and they said chivalry was dead. Not in Chan’s world it seemed. My stomach flipped again.

“What do you want?” I asked him as we approached the counter. “It’s my treat.”

His blue eyes moved to the menu, and he looked so lost. Call me crazy, but I would’ve guessed he’d never been in a coffee shop before.

“Do you like pumpkin spice lattes?” I asked. When his confused gaze focused on me, I had my answer. “I’ll just order you what I’m having. Sound good?”

“Thank you,” he said, sounding relieved.

I paid for our coffees and we sat at a table near the window. Outside, people continued to pass in various outlandish outfits, and they laughed and stumbled as they did. Chan slowly lifted the cup to his lips and took a drink.

His eyes widened and he looked at me. “This is extraordinary.”

“Right?” I grinned before taking a drink too. “I look forward to it every year. Pumpkin spice season is my favorite.”

Something weird happened after that, and by weird, I mean _awesome_.

Chan and I talked. Not about anything of importance, but it was nice. He commented on people’s costumes and asked about the other coffee flavors he’d seen on the menu, like Frankenstein’s Monster Blend and Dracula’s Blood. I bought a blueberry scone and split it with him.

As we ate, I told him about some of the whacky costumes my dad and I’d had over the years. One year we went as Mario and Luigi, and another year when I was really little, we’d gone as Jack Skellington and his dog Zero. I’d worn a sheet and a glowing pumpkin on my nose.

Chan laughed at that. “I’m not familiar with who you speak of, but the image your words bring to life is wonderful.”

He didn’t know Sinatra and he didn’t know Tim Burton? _Poor soul._

Before I knew it, the coffee shop was closing, and the manager told us to leave. We’d been there for hours, just talking and enjoying each other’s company. It hadn’t seemed like hours. Back outside, I shivered at the chilly October night and wrapped my arms more around myself.

Something touched my shoulders, and I looked to see Chan had taken off his jacket and was draping it over me.

“Ah, I’m okay,” I said through chattering teeth. “I don’t want you to be cold.”

“I’m not,” he said, offering me a smile that warmed me up a little. “May I walk you home?”

“That’d be great.”

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I _totally_ got the impression he was flirting with me. Kind of. I mean, he hadn’t said anything flirty, but his bashful smiles and the fact he’d given me his jacket certainly seemed like flirting behavior. Not that I was an expert or anything, though, seeing as to how I’d never even been kissed.

My house was about a fifteen minute walk, and by the time we reached it, it was five until midnight. Funny how I’d wanted to be alone earlier that night and just go home, not in the mood to talk to anyone. But now, as I stood on the sidewalk in front of my house and facing Chan, I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

“Thank you for hanging out with me tonight,” I said, staring up at his too-gorgeous face. “You made a sucky night not as sucky.”

A playful smirk upturned one side of his mouth and he touched my arm. A spark shot through me at the contact, snaking through my veins like an electric current.

“Sleep well, Hyunjin,” Chan whispered, leaning forward.

I thought he might kiss me, and I eagerly awaited it, but he stopped and pulled back. His brow was creased. Pained, even. He lifted a hand and glided his fingers along my jaw.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

_Did he just… recite Shakespeare? Seriously?_

I was speechless. Not only was he polite and chivalrous, but he was kind of romantic too. Where had this guy been my whole life?

“Oh, I guess you need your jacket back,” I said before shrugging it off and handing it back to him. He draped it over his arm, and suddenly the thought of the night ending made me sad. “Can I see you again? Get your number or something so we can grab another coffee sometime?”

_So smooth, Hyunjin. You’re a real charmer._

The pained look returned to his eyes. “That’s not possible, I’m afraid.”

I wanted to ask him why, but he turned and walked away. I watched him until he faded from sight. The bell tower in town chimed. Midnight. Halloween was officially over and a new month had begun.

The next day, I looked for him. I even asked random people in town if they knew him, but with only his first name and general appearance to go off of, I didn’t have much luck. It was almost as if he didn’t exist.

As I walked home that November day, a chill erupted on my skin as I passed the old mansion at the end of my street. I’d always been fascinated by the house, but something was drawing me even more that day. I approached the gate and looked through the bars. The mansion stood a ways from the road, surrounded by land and trees.

And in the window, I could’ve sworn I saw white-blond hair before the curtain was pulled closed.


	2. chapter one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! tysm for ur comments on the first chapter! i hope you'll enjoy this story <3

**_One Year Later_ **

Mrs. Glass lived in the old house at the end of the street. It towered over all the other homes and some of the trees. Vines grew up one side of the manor and covered most of the gazebo in the backyard.

Some kids in the neighborhood said it was haunted.

It definitely had the typical haunted house look. It was a huge manor that’d been there since forever. The paint was peeled in some areas, one of the windows upstairs had boards on it as if it’d been broken and boarded up as an easy fix. The grass hadn’t been mowed in, like, a million years by the looks of it too.

Screaming coming from the basement, shadows moving in the windows, and an eerie glow around the house at the peak of midnight—there were so many rumors and secrets surrounding the manor. Like the one about a boy who ventured inside one day and never came out again. Maybe he was murdered or maybe he never even existed and it was just all bullshit.

I was a chaser of truth. And so, naturally, that meant I had the bright idea to sneak inside and find out for myself.

It wasn’t my fault. The curiosity had become too much, and I _had_ to. I liked creepy things—horror movies, books about the supernatural, and basically anything involving magic or the undead. I also got these weird feelings at times when I passed certain paranormal hot spots, aka places where people said they’d seen things. Sometimes, the feelings happened when I passed other places too, ones that had no known history of being haunted.

_Sadness. Desperation. Anger._

The feelings had started earlier that year and came out of nowhere. But once they did, I’d be drawn to the area.

Not surprising, I didn’t have many friends, but that didn’t bother me because I had one super awesome best friend, and honestly? That’s all you needed in life—one person who understood you better than anyone else.

Said super awesome best friend was lying on her stomach on my bed, her ankles crossed and her hands under her chin, and giving me a _“you can’t be serious”_ look.

“I’m totally serious,” I said. “I need to see what’s inside that house.”

“Can’t we ever do normal things, Jinnie?” she asked with a groan. “Like, gee, I don’t know. Go to the mall or to the movies? An art gallery? Why is it always graveyards, abandoned buildings, and haunted houses?”

I plopped down beside her and rested my chin on her shoulder. “Because we aren’t normal.”

Heejin had been my best friend since kindergarten. Some boy had been being mean to me, pushing me down and calling me names, when Heejin had run over and shoved him as hard as she could. The bully had run off after that, too afraid of the pretty girl with the _takes no crap_ personality. Ever since then, we’d pretty much been inseparable.

We weren’t exactly the popular kids in school, but neither of us cared. We were our own tribe of awesome. She loved photography and I loved art. She carried her camera around everywhere, taking pictures of random things and using those cool filters that made them black and white or sepia. And I drew pictures.

“But we could get in trouble,” Heejin pointed out, flipping over to face me. “Mrs. Glass will call the cops on us.”

“No one has seen Mrs. Glass in, like, a decade,” I said, not really knowing if it was true, but whatever. “The house is huge, and she lives alone. If we’re quiet, she won’t even know we’re there.”

“You are talking about breaking into someone’s house, Hyunjin.” Heejin watched me with serious, dark eyes. “Going to graveyards is one thing…but I can’t do this. It’s going way too far. I can’t get into any more trouble. I’m sorry.”

We’d gotten picked up by the police once before for trespassing at an old factory. We hadn’t been charged or anything, but the police had brought us home to our parents, where we’d both been grounded for like eternity—which was approximately three weeks—and we’d been given a warning that if it ever happened again, we _would_ be charged.

“I understand,” I said, laying on my back and looking up at the ceiling. “No more trouble.”

What I hadn’t told her was that I felt a deep connection to the house at the end of the street. Just like the feelings I got that drove me to drag her to cemeteries and random areas all over downtown, the house caused them too. Every time I looked at it, I felt… I don’t know… _something_ , as if I was meant to be there.

I’d first sensed it a year before, the day after Halloween, and the connection had grown over time, until I’d become obsessed with the house.

“I better get home,” Heejin said before heaving a sigh. She sat up and grabbed her bag from the floor before making sure she had her camera inside. “See you at school tomorrow, Jinnie.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep your threats to yourself.”

She scoffed and knocked me upside the head before blowing me a kiss and walking out.

Rumors used to go around that Heejin and I were dating, but that’s all they were—rumors. Even my mom thought we were together for a while. Only Heejin knew my secret. And I _hated_ that I even had to call it that—a secret. As if it was something to be ashamed of.

I grinned after her and grabbed my sketchbook, sliding it in front of me on the bed. After flipping it open, I turned to the sketch I’d started on Mrs. Glass’ house.

The details weren’t right yet, so I erased one area and started again. Since I hadn’t gone closer than the gate, I used a picture I’d found online as reference, and it’d helped some. But it wasn’t the same as actually getting up close and personal.

When my eyes began to feel heavy, I looked at the time. Fifteen minutes until midnight. I’d been drawing for hours and had managed to shade in the gazebo and add some of the textures to the trees, grass, and parts of the house.

It was far from complete, but I was proud of it.

Mom said I was smart enough to be a scientist or a doctor. What a way to crush her dreams when I said I wanted to be an artist.

_“Do you know the success rates of artists?”_ she had asked me. _“They’re not good, Hyunjin. You’ll be living out of your car and eating granola bars every day of your life. Forced to prostitute yourself for money. Is that what you want?”_

My mom could also be a bit dramatic.

There was nothing quite like a hard dose of reality, though, to suck the life—and dreams—right out of you. Either do something you’ll be miserable doing just to make money or do what you love and struggle. Those were my choices?

I’d rather stay young forever.

The next morning, I woke up before my alarm and got ready for school.

Junior year had been the same as any other year so far, with the exception of a few things: better lockers for one and more freedom for another. We also gained access to the school’s outside atrium, where we could sit at lunch, away from the lowerclassman. Not that I’d visited it yet. It was a popular hangout spot for Changbin and his gang—guys who made it their mission to make my life hell—and I wasn’t ready for another round of headlocks and shoving.

Two weeks into the new school year and I’d managed to evade the bullies so far. I intended to keep it that way.

Mom sat at the kitchen table, reading on her kindle as she sipped coffee out of a mug that quoted _Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”_

The funny thing was? Mom wasn’t big into religion. However, she _was_ a believer in motivational speeches and anything that encouraged people to get off their butts and make a difference in the world. Unless, of course, you were her son. And then she didn’t give a crap.

I walked into the kitchen. “Morning.”

With my backpack on both shoulders—because the one-shoulder thing was too uncomfortable no matter how cool it looked—I headed for the front door.

“Hyunjin.” Mom’s voice stopped me. “You need to eat something. Studies show that people who skip breakfast are prone to gaining weight. It’s the most important meal of the day.”

Yeah, because how awful it’d be for her to not only have a kid who loved art but to have him be a fatty too.

“I’m not hungry.” My appetite had been all over the place lately, and I blamed it on Mrs. Glass’ house. I’d been both nervous and excited once I’d made the decision to go inside. Whenever that might be. “I’ll grab something in the cafeteria before class.”

“Promise?” She arched a brow.

“Cross my heart,” I answered before continuing out the door.

Outside, I walked with pep in my step. To give you a visual, it was basically like a happy bounce walk that probably made me look like the dorkiest guy ever, but I didn’t care. I breathed in the early-September air, loving the small hints of fall.

The official first day of fall wasn’t for another two weeks, but in the town of Iris Hollow, fall always came a little early.

We were a tourist town. Our historic district had homes and buildings that’d been around for a century or more. Most of them renovated to some extent, of course, but even outside of the historic district, there was still so much history in the town, from the old Victorian homes like Mrs. Glass’ to the lands on the outskirts of town that had legends of popular ghost sightings and tales of witches surrounding them.

Each October, people from all over would show up and stay in the _haunted_ Inns downtown and do the ghost tours our town put on every year.

There were a lot of mystic shops on the main strip, along with some that told the chilling tales of our haunted history. And I couldn’t lie… it was totally awesome, even if I didn’t fully believe all the stories.

I slowed my pace when I got to Mrs. Glass’ house.

That day, just like all the other days, the house looked ominous and empty, as if no one had touched it in many years. I wasn’t sure if Mrs. Glass ever left her house. However, sometimes when I walked by, there’d be cars in the driveway. So she obviously had visitors on occasion.

Just then, movement in one of the windows caught my eye. A woman with long white hair stared back at me before pulling the curtains closed.

-

History was my favorite subject in school. If you asked me my favorite time period, though, I’d have to say Ancient Greece. Several factors played into my reasoning: I liked the architecture and the polytheism. That there wasn’t just one god, but multiple, and each one had their own purpose. God of war, love, and even one of wine.

I liked the mythology that came from it, and how men who favored other men weren’t seen as abnormal like society seemed to think these days. Yeah, things were getting better on that front, but there seemed to be more of a stigma to it now than compared to back then.

As Mr. Park gave a lecture about the life of early Greeks, I listened and took notes, even though I knew most of it from my own research. And from watching the History channel, which was _always_ legit. Even the shows about aliens.

After class, I walked to the cafeteria, grabbed a tray of ‘food’, because honestly, it was questionable at best, and sat down.

“Please do _not_ tell me you’re still considering it,” Heejin said, giving me the one-eye. We were at our usual table near the window, giving us a view of the courtyard. “Jinnie, I swear to god, if I turn on the news and see your weird face as a report about a troubled teen breaking into an old lady’s house scrolls across the bottom… I will smother you with a pillow.”

“Really?” I asked, tossing a fry into my mouth. “My face is weird?”

Heejin smacked my arm before stealing a fry off my tray. I let her. I pretty much let her do whatever she wanted.

“Did you know that some people say Mrs. Glass is a witch?” I asked, unable to let the subject go. “That she has séances and stuff in her house and performs rituals.”

That would explain the mysterious cars I saw in her driveway.

“Where did you hear that?” Heejin was the skeptic of the pair of us.

She humored me when we went on our ghost hunting, graveyard exploring, and abandoned building adventures, but she didn’t actually believe in the supernatural. We’d never come across any trapped spirits or anything, so it wasn’t like she was in denial.

Heejin was the type of person who needed irrefutable proof to believe in something, whereas I followed my gut instinct. The same gut instinct that told me to go to Mrs. Glass’ place.

“Read it online,” I answered, ignoring her eye roll. “I did some research last night, trying to find photos of the house for my sketch, and I came across an article.”

“Let me guess… it came from losers dot com?”

“Ouch.” I clutched my chest.

“She’s not a witch, Jinnie.”

“And what makes you an expert all of a sudden on witches?” I challenged, lightly bopping her on the nose.

She swatted me away and gave me a matter-of-fact look. “Simple. If she was a witch she’d put a spell on her creepy, ugly house to make it look better.”

“Hey, it’s not ugly.” I cut my eyes at her. “It has character.”

“Is that what you tell yourself every morning when you look in the mirror?”

If Heejin wasn’t insulting me or being a brat, that’s when I knew something was wrong. It’s how we operated, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. There was no one I trusted more than her to have my back. When it mattered, she was like my personal Wonder Woman. And I wasn’t the least bit ashamed to admit it, either.

I wasn’t _too_ small, so I could hold my own if I needed to. I was five foot ten and a bit skinnier than I liked, but not too thin. My dark hair was kind of shaggy, my bangs hung in my face a little, and my eyes were plain dark.

Heejin told me that if I didn’t open my mouth, I’d be a total catch. _Hunkulicious_ was the actual term she’d used, but um, no. I refused to refer to myself like that.

Apparently when I opened my mouth, weird came out. According to her.

“Did you know that Mrs. Glass’ house is actually an American Queen Anne styled home, instead of Victorian like we thought?”

“Like _you_ thought,” Heejin corrected, giving me a droll look. “I couldn’t give two shits. Are we going to talk about that freaking house all day?”

I pressed my lips together, refraining from spouting off another fact I’d learned the night before.

Mrs. Glass’ house—well, it was more classified as a manor—was built in the year 1899 and was considered one of the largest of that style in existence today. No wonder it could be seen from the road, even though it had a long driveway.

But even at that distance, I’d still seen her—the woman with the white hair. A memory of a year ago surfaced, when I’d thought I’d seen someone else in the window. After that Halloween night, I’d searched for Chan everywhere. No one seemed to know who he was, and I’d started to think I’d had a mental breakdown or something and imagined him.

Or maybe he’d been right there all along. In that manor.

“Look, Jinnie,” Heejin said in a softer tone, placing her hand over mine. “I know you’re fascinated by that house, and I know you tend to obsess about these kinds of things, but you really do need to let this one go. Both for your sanity and mine.”

She was right. As usual. How foolish I’d been to think I could actually break in there with no consequences. To sneak in, explore the house, and expect to make it out of there without being spotted. It’d been a stupid idea from the start. I mean, I could always just go knock on the door, but that’d be awkward.

“Okay,” I said with a defeated sigh. “Consider it dropped.”

“Good.” Heejin scrutinized me a moment before stealing another fry off my plate.

After school, Heejin had band practice—she played the flute—so I walked home alone. I didn’t live too far away from school and preferred walking. Until the cold weather approached anyway.

Time to myself helped re-charge my batteries, so to speak. Socializing drained me, not so much because I didn’t like people, but because I _felt_ so much in crowds.

Just like the feelings that urged me to go to random graveyards and rundown buildings, sometimes I felt it in large groups of people as well. Over the past year or so, those sensations had only become stronger, as if I was more attuned to everything around me. It was exhausting.

As I turned onto Crestview, the street in my neighborhood, I slowed my pace as I always did.

Why was I so obsessed with the old manor?

The question rang through my mind as I stopped on the sidewalk, staring through the iron gate and to the mansion beyond the barrier. Peeled green and brown paint covered areas of the siding, while other parts hinted at what the manor used to be, once upon a time. I still saw that beauty, the potential. The front porch had a pointed archway above it and on the left side of the house was a turret that reminded me of a medieval tower, creating an awesome profile to the two story structure.

And there it was again… the sense of anguish and longing.

It called to me more than any other place ever had.

-

Mom was exercising when I got home. Our house had three bedrooms, and she’d turned one of them into her own private gym. There wasn’t much in there, basically just a treadmill, a yoga mat, and a TV. She was all about healthy living, so that meant healthy meals and daily exercise. I normally forwent the latter.

Not wanting to disturb her, I grabbed an apple from the kitchen before going to my room.

It was quiet there, and in that quiet, I sat at my desk and opened my sketchbook. Inspiration was out of my reach, though, as I looked over the sketch from the night before. A weight was in my chest, and I rubbed at the aching spot. It wasn’t a physical ache, but a more internal one that, honestly, was kind of worse.

The conversation with Heejin at lunch had started it, as had my stop at the manor while walking home. It’d been like an invisible thread pulling me closer, closer to the gate.

As my eyes moved to the framed picture on my desk, an overwhelming sadness crashed over me. Dad. In the picture, he and I stood with our arms draped around each other and laughed. His brown hair was a shade lighter than mine, but we shared the same facial shape. I had the same squared jaw and set of eyes. That same dimple that tended to get us both out of trouble with Mom.

It was one of the last pictures I’d ever taken with him.

I couldn’t even remember what we’d been laughing at. If only I’d known what would happen months after that day, maybe I would’ve paid more attention. Stored more into memory. When he was deployed, he never came back.

Mom didn’t understand me. Not like Dad had.

He’d never shut down my dreams or told me to _be realistic_. When I said I wanted to be an astronaut at age eight, during my alien obsession phase, he’d been nothing but supportive and bought one of those rocket sets so we could build a small rocket together. When I told him I wanted to be a graphic artist at fourteen after realizing my love for art, he hadn’t rolled his eyes like Mom had.

No, he’d said, “ _The sky is the limit, kid. Aim high, and if you fall, well it’s damn beautiful on the way down.”_

Those words had stuck with me.

“Love you, Dad,” I whispered, touching the picture before grabbing his dog tag around my neck. I never took it off.

For so long, I’d felt lost. Like I was walking through life, unsure of what path to take and questioning the meaning of everything. Wondering what my purpose was in the great scheme of things.

Heejin and I chased ghosts—although we’d never actually seen one—and we were thrill seekers, venturing into rundown buildings after dark. Just anything to make me feel… I don’t know…not so small but fearless. Yet, no matter how many cemeteries we visited late at night or how many supposedly haunted buildings we snuck into, I was still searching. Still trying to find the answer to an unknown question.

If I was being completely honest with myself, the reason I was so obsessed with Mrs. Glass’ house was because when I looked at it…I didn’t feel as lost anymore.

As though whatever waited beyond that gate would lead me to where I needed to be.


	3. chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for being gone for so long fam! hope you enjoy this chapter :)

“Hey, freak. See any ghosts lately?”

Shoved from behind, I went face-first into my locker door. A sharp pain rushed through my nose, as did a stinging, and when I swiped a finger under it, I saw blood smeared on my knuckle. I turned around to meet Changbin.

His long, black bangs hung over his eyes. He wasn’t popular. Far from it. Unlike how teen movies and books portrayed high school life, my bullying never came from the jocks. In fact, some of the football guys were nice to me.

Changbin and his gang were the trouble makers of the school. The kids who’d shoot spitballs at the backs of people’s heads, set things on fire, and beat up other less-popular kids. Not knowing why, Changbin had taken a great dislike to me the past two and a half years, and ever since then, he made school life miserable.

Dad once told me most bullies were only that way because it’s all they knew. That it was learned behavior. It didn’t make it okay, of course, but he’d told me that Changbin being a punk to me probably had nothing to do with me and more to do with how Changbin thought of himself.

“I asked you a damn question.” Changbin slammed his hand against the locker beside my head, making me flinch.

“Back off.”

I jolted at the new voice, and my eyes nearly bugged out of my head when I saw who it was. Lee Minho. Not only was he one of the most popular guys in school, but I’d been crushing on him since last year. Brown hair fell across his brow, and his cat-like eyes popped against his pale skin and dark lashes.

“Piss off, Minho,” Changbin said with a snarl. “Go back to your meathead friends.”

Minho stepped closer and stared Changbin down. “Back. Off.”

Changbin’s tough-guy act changed as his eyes widened a bit. Changbin’s bicep was bigger than both of Minho’s put together, but Minho was taller. And his stare could cut through your soul.

“Whatever.” Changbin released me, being sure to push me back against the locker door, before turning to his goons. “Let’s go.”

I guess even the meanest, nastiest predators knew when to back off.

“You okay?” Minho asked, moving his eyes to me.

I nodded, too stunned to say anything even remotely coherent.

“Good.” He smiled, drawing my eyes to his pearly-white teeth. “We should probably get to class.”

“Uh huh,” I responded, nodding. And nodding some more.

_Oh my god. What’s wrong with me?_

Minho’s lips twitched and he adjusted the bag on his shoulder. “See you in there.”

He walked away, and I stared after him a bit too long before realizing I needed to hightail it to class as well. I shared class with him, so I ran after him. Man, he was a fast walker. It must’ve been those legs of his.

When I came running into algebra, out of breath and just as the tardy bell rang, Heejin narrowed her eyes at me.

“What happened to your face?” she asked in a harsh whisper. “Who do I need to kill? Changbin?”

“It’s nothing,” I said, looking ahead at the board where the teacher was writing that day’s assignment. A trickling sensation ran from my nose and touched my upper lip, and I quickly wiped at it, seeing blood when I withdrew my hand. Ugh. I’d thought it’d stopped bleeding. “I’m okay.”

“You’ve always been a horrible liar, Jinnie,” Heejin whispered, but her tone wasn’t sarcastic as usual. It was sad.

“Mr. Hwang?” the teacher called out from the front of the room. The rest of the class turned in their seats to gawk at me, causing me to shrink down in my chair and wish I was invisible. “Perhaps you should go see the nurse.”

Minho furrowed his brow at me, and it was weird—yet sweet—that he looked so worried.

“Yes, sir,” I mumbled before standing and walking down the aisle, trying not to trip over anything, including my own feet, which I was prone to doing. My face was a furnace, and once I was out in the hall, away from everyone, I released a shaky breath, glad to be away from all the prying eyes.

Instead of going to the nurse, I went to the restroom and studied myself in the mirror. Yeah, it looked kind of bad. Not only was my left nostril oozing blood, but there was already bruising taking effect. I grabbed a paper towel and wet it before holding it to my nose.

So much for avoiding bullies that year.

Heejin walked beside me for the rest of the day like she was my bodyguard. Every time she saw Changbin, she’d shoot him the kind of glare I never wanted to be on the receiving end of. There weren’t many people who pulled off that silent, intimidating type, but Heejin was an expert.

“You should’ve ratted on him,” she said in the middle of eighth period. It was the last class of the day, and the one I looked forward to the most; art.

“That would only make him try to kill me even more,” I told her, rolling my eyes. “They’d only suspend him for, like, a day or give him after-school detention. And then he’d be right back here, making my life hell. No thanks.”

“I don’t know why he hates you so much,” she muttered, looking at her watercolor painting. It was of a mountain range at sunset and really reflected who she was as an artist; someone who loved nature and vibrant colors.

“Me either.” I studied my own painting, one of the ocean floor. The seaweed looked so flat, lacking any movement, and I sighed. “I suck at this. How are you so good at watercolor and I’m not?”

Heejin answered me with a self-satisfied grin and wiggled in her chair. “It _is_ pretty good, huh? Maybe I have a knack for it after all.” Her dark eyes shifted to my canvas, and she cocked her head. “Um, Jinnie? Yours is amazing. What the heck are you talking about?”

I analyzed mine, seeing every flaw. That flat seaweed would haunt my dreams. “I think you need glasses, Heej.”

“ _A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees_ ,” she quoted after scrolling on her phone a second.

I glanced over at her and arched a brow.

“That’s William Blake, stupid. Basically it’s all about perception. People can look at the same thing and interpret them differently. Or in this case, the difference between a fool and someone wise.”

“You’re the fool?” I asked, tapping my chin. “Makes sense now.”

She slapped my arm, and I chuckled.

Walking home that day, I tried not to stop in front of Mrs. Glass’ house. I willed my feet to keep moving. To not look to the right of the road where I knew the incredible manor would be, of where I’d get that strong sense of belonging and want to tread closer.

Willpower had never been a strength of mine.

I looked, as I always did.

The woman was in the window again. Staring right in my direction. Her long white hair looked exactly the same, but I couldn’t make out many other features from my distance. Unlike last time, she didn’t close the curtain and move out of sight. She continued standing there, watching me just as I was watching her.

I raised a hand and waved.

She didn’t wave, but it looked like she nodded, and then turned to the side as if she was talking to someone. A dog barking to my left made me snap my head around. A group of guys were walking down the sidewalk opposite of me, talking loudly and laughing. They weren’t doing anything wrong. That dog just barked at everyone.

When I looked back at the house, the woman was gone.

I was about to leave, when rustling sounded in the bushes in front of me.

“Um. Hi?” I called out.

_Please don’t be an axe murderer._

“Hello,” a male voice echoed, and something about it made my stomach flip. He sounded like silk and honey—okay I just made that up—but in other words, he sounded _hot_.

Whoever it was, they were on Mrs. Glass’ property, behind the fence and hiding within the foliage.

“How’s it going?” I asked, and yeah, I felt stupid talking to a shrub.

“Going?” he questioned. “Oh, I am well, thank you for asking.”

He was…odd.

“So, um.” I shifted my weight on the sidewalk before looking around me. No one else was around. “Are you just going to hide or can I see your face?”

Just then, I saw white-blond hair poke out from the closest tree, and when the guy looked at me, my heart stopped.

“Hi,” I said, aware I’d already said hi, but honestly, I was stunned.

After nearly a year of searching for him, there he was.

“You have already said your greeting,” Chan pointed out, cocking his head as an adorable smile curved his lips. “It’s lovely to see you again, Hyunjin.”

That darn dog started barking again. I flipped around to look and saw another group of kids walking on the sidewalk

“Sorry,” I said, turning back to him.

But he was gone.

“Chan?” I called, grabbing the iron bars and pressing my face against the gate. Then I said softer, “Please come back.”

He didn’t.

-

“Did you hear that?” I asked, shining the flashlight on a headstone to the right. “Sounded like footsteps.”

“Nah.” Heejin swung her legs back and forth as we sat on the bench in the graveyard. “Not footsteps. It’s probably the sound of your heartbeat, because you’re paranoid. _Ba dum, ba dum_.” She tapped her chest as she said the words.

“Shut up,” I said with a laugh. “I’m _not_ scared. Just curious. There’s a difference.”

“Why are we here again?” she asked, sounding bored. I knew better, though. Her gaze kept darting around the cemetery. “We’ve already scoped out this one.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” I told her, slowly moving the flashlight through our surroundings. The fall night was amazing, smelling like wet leaves, crisp air, and pumpkins—well, the pumpkin came from mine and Heejin’s coffees. Pumpkin spice, thank you very much. “Just because we didn’t see anything before doesn’t mean nothing’s here. It could be hiding.”

“Hiding?” Heejin repeated, dryly. “Like it wants to play _hide and seek_? I don’t think ghosts do that, Jinnie.”

“How do you know? You’ve never met one.”

“Neither have you. Ghosts aren’t rea—”

A twig snapped in the same direction I’d thought I heard footsteps moments ago.

Heejin and I looked that way as a loud silence took dominion over the area. Crazy how silence could be loud, but it was deafening. Ever other noise suddenly seemed to be increased tenfold, and I could swear my heart was thumping so loud Heejin could hear it.

“Dog, maybe?” Heejin asked in a shaky voice.

She then took a drink of her pumpkin spice latte, as did I. It was like the spinach Popeye ate to grow strong, except for it gave us courage. Or it made us so hyper we only believed we were courageous. Which worked too.

“I don’t know,” I responded as my eyes grew to saucers. “Are dogs like five feet tall and move really slow?”

“What?” the word came out in a squeak.

“Well,” I said, trying to stay calm. Not from fear, but from excitement. “Don’t freak out… but there’s something walking by that tombstone.”

The hairs on my nape stood on end, as did the ones on my arms and legs. My scalp prickled as a cold sensation washed over me. I’d never felt that before, the cold. With the cold, there were the feelings I’d come to expect from those types of places, though.

The strongest emotion right then was grief. It hit me so hard that I gasped and my eyes watered.

A soft wailing came from the dark figure moving in front of the grave. It was one-hundred percent stereotypical ghostly-ness, but it was honest to god happening. A flicker of white caught my eye as the figure moved out from the headstone.

“Oh my god,” Heejin said under her breath. “Jinnie. Are you seeing it too?”

I nodded, even though it was dark and she probably couldn’t see me.

A woman with curly dark hair and wearing a white gown slowly moved through the cemetery. I wouldn’t quite call it _walking_ , more like a glide. Her body flickered and held a faint ethereal glow. Her wailing grew louder before transforming into harsh sobs.

_“Where is he?”_

Both of us yelped at the voice. It was unlike anything I’d ever heard—whispery and fragmented.

Heejin put a death grip—no pun intended—on my arm and jumped up from the bench, tugging me along behind her as she fled the area. Our poor coffees were left in the dust. Maybe they’d turn into ghosts too. Pumpkin Spice wraiths that wanted revenge.

“Why are we leaving?” I asked after we passed through the gate out of the cemetery and back into the field on the other side. “That was a ghost, Heej! A real, living, well maybe not _actually_ living, because hello, dead. But a ghost!”

“Exactly!” Heejin exclaimed, finally stopping and looking at me. Her ashen face and wide eyes told me her mental state.

“Wow, Heej,” I said. “Your face is pale… almost like you’ve seen a ghost.”

That earned me a—well-deserved—slap on the arm.

“This is _so_ not the time for jokes, Hyunjin,” she said, leaning forward and resting her hands on her knees. “I can’t believe that just happened.” She straightened back up and peered into my face. “Or am I crazy? It _did_ happen, right?”

“Yeah,” I reassured her. Well, maybe it didn’t exactly reassure her, because it proved what she saw was real and not just her imagination. Imagination would’ve been easier to grasp. Crazy would too. “Totally happened.”

“Seriously?”

“Dead serious. Ow!”

“I swear to god, Jinnie, I’m going to murder you one day.”

When we got back to my house, we walked through the front door and headed straight for the stairs.

“Did y’all have fun at the mall?” Mom asked from the living room. By the sound of it, she was watching her Thursday night show.

Heejin and I exchanged a glance before I called out, “Yep. Super fun. Can Heejin stay the night?”

There was a pause. “It’s a school night, Hyunjin.”

I knew that wasn’t the reason. She knew I never missed school unless I was in bed dying. No, it was because Heejin’s a girl. Oh, how wrong Mom was.

“We won’t stay up all night,” I said. “Promise. We need to study for a test.”

Heejin pursed her lips, trying not to laugh. I elbowed her.

“Okay,” Mom finally said, using her best disapproving _Mom_ tone.

I mean, come on. Heejin had been my best friend since we were six. Not to insult her or anything, but even if I liked girls in that way, it’d still be way too freaking weird. And gross.

We hurried up the stairs and to my room, closing the door once inside. My room looked like a tornado had hit it—clothes both clean and dirty in heaping piles on the floor instead of being in the closet and hamper where they belonged, an unmade bed, and various soda cans—but Heejin was used to my mess.

Once every thousand years I cleaned it.

“My mind’s still reeling,” Heejin said, sitting on my bed. “Ghosts aren’t supposed to be real. Maybe it _wasn’t_ a ghost. It could’ve just been some weird lady walking in the graveyard at night. That’s possible, right?”

Seeing her hopeful expression, I hated to crush it, but the way the woman had moved and sounded—I got shivers at the memory—there was no possibility of her being human.

Heejin’s face fell. “Ugh. Your face is so telling, Jinnie.”

“Well, what did you expect?” I asked, plopping down in my computer chair. “We’re ghost hunters. We were bound to see one eventually.”

She laughed. “I never believed in them, though! And we don’t _hunt_ them. All we’ve ever done is walk through creepy places and talk crap to each other, mostly while hyped up on caffeine and sugar.”

Knowing it wasn’t the right time to pester her, but not really caring, I said, “I didn’t know you were such a chicken, Heej. Bawk, bawk.”

A pillow came soaring through the air, and I ducked before it hit me.

“Hey, Heej?” I kept an innocent expression, and forced myself not to grin as her dark eyes pinned me with a stare. “Why did the chicken cross the road?” She jumped up off the bed, and I shrieked as she started slapping at me, “To run from the ghost on the other side!”

“You’re such a jerk!”

Surprisingly, Heejin fell asleep quick that night. She was one of those gifted people who could lie down and go to sleep right as their head hit the pillow. Even though we’d stayed up until after midnight talking about the lady in the cemetery and tossing theories back and forth about what might’ve happened to her, she was out like a light not even two minutes after lying down.

I, however, was still wide awake at three a.m. It wasn’t because I was sleeping on the floor, being the perfect gentlemen and letting her have my bed. I’d piled a ton of blankets and pillows down there to make it super comfy.

No, it was my stupid brain keeping me up.

Unlike Heejin, I hadn’t been afraid in the graveyard. Startled at first, yes, but not scared. For years, I’d loved reading ghost stories and watching any supernatural themed movie ever. And although I’d had an open mind and hoped ghosts existed, a part of me hadn’t fully believed it.

_Are vampires real, too? Zombies?_

_Hogwarts?_

Once my mind got going, there was no stopping it. Once I stopped obsessing over ghosts, aliens, and swamp monsters, a different thing kept me awake.

Chan had been on Mrs. Glass’ property, making me believe even more that he lived there. I couldn’t get him out of my head, his white-blond hair and the perfect angle of his face. His jaw had been masculine and sexy, but something about the curious look in his eyes made him seem kind of innocent.

The night with him a year before had been one of the best I’d ever had. I felt connected to him in a way that confused me.

Eventually, exhaustion became too great, and I started drifting off. That was until I felt a cold sensation snaking up my arm. With my eyes still closed, I tucked my arm under the blanket and snuggled back into the army of pillows around me.

But then something whispered in my ear, “ _Have you seen my mommy?_ ”

Jerking upward, I swatted at the air and yelped. Shivers racked my entire body as the sensation of hot breath still lingered at my ear. I searched the darkness with wide eyes, not sure if the shadows I saw were real or if my mind was playing tricks on me.

“Heejin!”

She groaned and rolled over, facing the wall.

Great. I was on my own to deal with whatever childlike thing had whispered in my ear. But I never saw anything else. I didn’t hear another peep. My thoughts had been consumed with ghosts for hours before I went to sleep, so maybe it’d just been a dream. One that’d seemed too real.

To say I slept easy that night would be a lie. Any sound, no matter how small, jolted me from sleep, and I tossed and turned so much that, if I were a rotisserie chicken, I would’ve been cooked on all sides.

When the room brightened in the early morning with the rising sun, it was easy to dismiss the incident as a trick of the mind. I even laughed at myself for having been duped by my overactive imagination. I quietly left the room, so I wouldn’t wake Heejin earlier than her required seven o’clock, and went to the bathroom.

“Geez,” I muttered after seeing myself in the mirror. I looked as tired as I felt.

Deciding that a shower might help wake me up, I stripped down and stepped into the tub, turning the water more toward the cold side. I winced as it hit my skin. It was like ice, and I had a sudden change of heart and flipped it back to warm. Afterward, I dried off and dressed before scrunching my face up in the mirror.

It was an every morning routine, as if one morning I’d look in the mirror and see something different. Dark hair chaotically jutted out from my head, and after many failed attempts to pat it down, I gave up and left the bathroom.

From the corner of my eye, it looked like something dashed across the hall. Something small. We didn’t have a pet, either.

_Must be sleep deprivation_. I shook my head and went back into my room.

It was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who needs ghostbusters when we have hyunjin & heejin lol
> 
> tysm for reading!


	4. chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is kind of a filler chapter bUT i just love hyunjin & heejin <3333

**T** hings were getting weird. More so than usual. As in, weird things were happening more frequently. I’d started seeing things, mostly from the corner of my eye or brief glimpses of a shadow darting into a dark corner. Feelings came out of nowhere, anger or sadness, and sometimes the grief was so intense that I’d start randomly sobbing—thank god, I was always alone when the latter occurred.

An easy explanation would be I was crazy. Or going through some kind of teenaged breakdown. But I knew it was something bigger than that. I just didn’t know _what_.

Maybe that’s why I was spending my Saturday at the bookstore instead of doing fun things people my age were supposed to be doing. Like, I don’t know, hooking up or going bowling or something. And the fact I even mentioned bowling as something _fun_ guys my age would do just proved even further how uncool I was.

Whatever. I didn’t care.

I only cared about figuring out what was wrong with me.

“Look at this,” Heejin said, plopping down beside me in the aisle and handing me a book. Shelves of books were in front of and behind us, and we had various books on the supernatural scattered around us on the floor.

I snorted when I saw the title. “Pretty sure I won’t find anything useful in a book called, _Are You a Ghost?_ The fact I stumped my toe on the edge of my bed this morning and screamed in agony for five minutes is proof of that.”

“Do ghosts have toes?” Heejin asked, leaning against the shelf and crinkling up her face.

“Maybe we should go back to the cemetery and ask that nice lady?” I suggested, already bracing myself for the hit I knew was coming. _“Excuse me, Miss, but my bestie Heejin here has a foot fetish and she wanted to see yours.”_

“Jinnie, you _will_ need that book because I’m going to kill you.”

“Heej, don’t be so anti-climactic and spoil the ending. You’re like those villains in movies who stand around, going into huge detail about what they’re gonna do, giving the protagonist enough time to escape. Also, do you think ghosts can even read? Like, what’s the point of writing a book _for_ ghosts if they can’t read it?”

“Let me kill you, so you can find out.”

“You’d miss me too much,” I responded before taking a drink of my pumpkin spice latte. I loved how most bookstores had coffee shops in them. There was no better combination than reading and drinking coffee. “Hey, did you see any books over there about, like, supernatural abilities or anything?”

We’d made a little nook in the paranormal section, but there were several different aisles that had books on the subject. I’d been scanning the shelves in that aisle and pulling down books I thought may be of help, while Heejin had been scouring the ones on the other aisles.

Heejin sipped her latte before answering, “Yeah, there were tons. Ones on psychics, mediums, ghosts, astrology, zodiac signs, and all of that stuff. Do you seriously think you’re gifted?”

Well, when she asked it like _that_ I wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Probably not,” I said, not sure if I meant it. “I just don’t know how else to explain all these strange feelings I get. They used to lead me to certain places, but now they’re stronger, as if I not only sense the emotions, but experience them. Like they’re my own feelings.”

“Gotta admit, Jinnie. That’s weird.” Heejin sighed and tilted her head back, stretching out her legs in front of her. “I’m happy you’ve found something else to obsess over, though, instead of Mrs. Glass and her creepy house.”

“Manor,” I corrected, flipping through another book, that one about hauntings. “I wish we had money to buy all of these. I have enough on me to buy one.”

“Better make it a good one then, huh?” Heejin stood and dance-hopped down the aisle like the massive dork she was. She didn’t even spill her coffee, which was impressive.

“Hey, Hwang.”

I looked up, confused, and then froze. Lee Minho stood not even three feet away, smiling down at me and my mess of supernatural books. Great, now he’s _really_ going to think I was a freak.

“Minho! Uh.” I glanced at the books before looking back at him. “Funny seeing you here.”

“What, just because I play ball, I can’t be smart or like to read?” he asked, but thankfully he didn’t look offended. “What’s all this?”

“Research,” I answered a bit too quickly.

“For your ghost hunting?” Unlike when other people mentioned mine and Heejin’s hobby, Minho didn’t sneer or sound condescending. “How did you and Heejin get into that anyway?”

“What do you want?” Heejin asked after walking back over to me with a pile of books in one arm while she held her latte with the other.

Minho’s gaze lifted to her, and his smile widened. “Nice to see you too.”

“I didn’t say anything about it being nice,” she shot back in typical Heejin fashion. The thing about Heejin was she didn’t trust anyone, except for me, but even then it was up in the air at times. She _really_ didn’t trust kids at school, though, especially the guys. “So if you’ll leave us alone, that’d be great.”

“Heej,” I said, eyeing her.

“Nah, it’s okay,” Minho said, less smiley now. Which was a shame because he had the best smile ever. Well, almost the best one. Chan had him beat. “I don’t want to bother you guys. I didn’t expect to see anyone I knew in here and wanted to say hi.”

“Wait.” I got to my feet and touched his arm right as he turned to walk away. “Are you looking for a particular book or anything?”

_Oh sweet Jesus_. His smile resurfaced. “Yeah. Um. The manga section, actually.”

A man after my own heart. I pointed him in the right direction, earning an eye roll from my best friend.

“Thanks,” he said, tilting his head down in that adorable way and bumping my arm. “Have fun reading about ghosts.”

I watched him leave before turning back to Heejin, who arched a brow and looked way too mischievous for my liking.

“What did you find?” I asked her, looking at the books she’d brought from the other shelves.

“You like Minho?” she asked, clearly ignoring my attempt at changing the subject. She tucked her long black hair behind her ear and took her seat again on the floor, crisscross. “Why didn’t you tell me, doofus? I wouldn’t have been so mean to him.”

I wasn’t sure why I’d never told her I had a crush on him. Maybe it was because I’d already felt weird about her knowing I was gay, and I was still too self-conscious to talk about it. And it wasn’t like she told me about any of her crushes, either.

“Back to the books, Heej,” I said, sounding impatient.

Another hour passed as we flipped through several more books. I found one about various types of psychic abilities that had a breakdown of each one. Out of all the ones I’d come across, it seemed the most helpful, so I took it to the front counter and paid before we left the store and walked outside to the parking lot.

“You can talk to me, you know,” Heejin said in a soft voice after we got in her car. She stared at the steering wheel, and my stomach knotted when I realized she was upset. Her dark eyes shifted to mine and her mouth pulled down at the edges. “I love you, Jinnie. I know I threaten to kill you a lot, and I’m a total brat, but you’re like my other half, and I’d be lost without you. I love you for who you are, weirdness and all. You being gay doesn’t change that. I want to know your crushes or if you’re having guy problems. I want to be here for you, just like you’ve always been here for me.”

There it was again. The strong emotion I couldn’t explain. The tears pooling in my eyes weren’t only derived from my own sadness, but hers as well.

“I’m sorry,” I said before swallowing the lump in my throat. “It’s still strange saying it out loud, I guess.”

“There’s nothing shameful about it… if that’s what you’re struggling with.”

I averted my gaze to the bag in my lap that held my two new books—Heejin had bought me one about ghost hunting. I didn’t know what to say.

I wouldn’t quite say I was ashamed, but I was something. Hesitant, maybe, out of fear of how people would react. Worried about being treated differently, all because of something I had no control over.

If you didn’t fit into a certain box, people lost their minds. Even though things were a lot better for the gay community those days, it was still hard for two guys to walk down the street, hand in hand, without someone spouting off a derogatory remark or without people gawking.

It took courage to come out, and no amount of pumpkin spice latte would give me enough of that. Sad that chasing ghosts was easier than admitting I was gay.

-

“It says right here there are four types of ghosts,” I explained, pointing at a page in the book she’d bought me.

Heejin and I’d gone over to her house that night, because my mom was having her friends over for a ladies poker night.

I’d made the mistake of walking in on them during one of those nights before, and right as I turned the corner to go into the kitchen, not far from the dining room where they sat around the table playing, I heard one lady talk about how her husband had shaved… well, down _there_ … and she said it now looked like a chubby, bald old man. That’d been enough for me to run out of the room, gagging and feeling like my ears were bleeding.

“There’s more than just one?” Heejin asked, kicking her feet up off the floor and tucking them under her on the small sofa in her room.

It’d taken her a while to let me talk about ghosts again and the woman we’d seen. I knew it probably damaged her pride a bit.

“Yep,” I said before squinting at the text. “One is called the Interactive Personality, and it can become visible to us, talk, and even have a smell, like flowers or cigar smoke. It says they can even have emotions and remember their life before they died. They’re usually friendly, but not always.”

“Not always,” Heejin repeated in a dry tone. “Wow, that’s reassuring. Do you think… _she_ was one of those?” Her eyes widened before she shook her head, as if annoyed she let herself be afraid.

“Not sure,” I answered, still reading. “There’s also once called an Ecto-Mist ghost that appears as a swirling fog or mist-like apparition. I think maybe your best friend from the graveyard was this one.” A pillow soared at my head, and I snorted a laugh. “The most common place to see these are cemeteries and historical places.”

“When I kill you, I wonder which type you’ll come back as?”

I narrowed my eyes at her, but kept reading aloud, “The third is an orb. According to this book, which I feel in my heart and soul is totally legit,” Heejin interrupted with a snort, and I continued, “the orb is the most photographed type of them all. They look like little balls of light that hover over the ground. Aw, that’s kinda sad. It says that they’re believed to be wandering souls that travel around and try to find a place to dwell, like they’re lost.”

“Okay, what’s the last one?” she asked, sounding bored, but the way her eyes shone told me she was way more interested than what she put off.

“The poltergeist,” I answered, feeling a weight in my stomach at reading the name. “It’s the most terrifying of the four, able to throw things around, turn the lights on and off, slam doors, and even start fires. Often times, it’s malicious. They feed off mostly negative energy.”

Heejin chewed her thumbnail. “Let’s not ever encounter one of those, okay?”

“Deal,” I said, having no desire to _ever_ meet one of those. “But I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Heej. You’re scarier than any poltergeist.”

“I actually feel like that’s a compliment,” she said, looking quite pleased with herself.

“So.” I spun in the computer chair and looked at her. “When do you want to go back to the graveyard?”

“Never,” she answered, covering herself with the lap blanket, as if the big, scary ghost couldn’t get her as long as her body was under it. “I _really_ don’t think we should go back. Or to any other creepy sites, Jinnie.”

An ache spread through my chest. “But we used to do it all the time.”

She nodded, causing her dark waves to bounce a little. “Yeah. That was before we actually saw something.”

I tried not to let my disappointment show, but it was hard. I’d _finally_ found something that excited me. That made me feel… normal. As crazy as it sounded, that’s how it’d made me feel. That lost feeling from before had dissipated a little the night we saw the ghost, as if I’d finally found a purpose in life. A direction.

And now Heejin wanted to stop.

“Look, Jinnie.” She studied me with sad eyes. “I know how much it means to you. When your dad died, I never thought I’d get my best friend back. You were so closed off from the world, as if a part of you had died too. You were here, but not _really_ here. My mom was worried about you. We all were.”

A tear streamed down my face, and I wiped it away.

The day Mom and I found out about Dad was the worst day of my life. Two marines had shown up at the door, in full uniform, and told Mom the news. I’d been in the living room, trying to get the signal to work on the TV, when I’d heard an agonizing cry from the front door. I’d run out there to find Mom collapsed against one of the men, sobbing so hard she couldn’t breathe.

Dad had died a hero. Enemy had opened fire, and he’d acted as a human shield to save a woman and her child.

Heejin continued, “That’s why I started going on these ghost hunts with you. For the first time in _way_ too long, I saw my best friend come alive again. Yeah, it was weird, but we’ve always been weird, and I didn’t think much into it. You loved spooky and paranormal things, so when you mentioned you wanted to, I said yes. When we went on our adventures, it was fun, but I never actually _believed_ in ghosts.”

“Why are you stopping then?” I asked. “You finally have the proof you need to believe in them. I don’t understand why you’d—”

“Because I’m scared, Jinnie!” Tears pooled in her eyes and she angrily wiped them away. In a softer voice, she repeated, “I’m scared. Okay? Since that night at the cemetery, I haven’t slept well. I jump at every small noise, and I freak out when I think I see something move from the corner of my eye. I’m a wreck, Jinnie. I… I can’t do it.”

Seeing her cry was rare, and I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. I went over and sat beside her on the couch, pulling her against me.

She laid her head on my chest and quietly cried.

“I’m sorry, Heej.” I brushed my fingers through her hair, feeling like the crappiest friend in the world. “I knew you were scared, but I didn’t realize you were _that_ scared. You don’t have to do it anymore. I promise.”

She nodded and held my waist tighter, burying her face against my neck. Warm tears landed on my skin. “Sorry I’m not as fearless as you thought.”

“Are you kidding me?” I tilted her face up and wiped a tear away with my thumb. “You’re the toughest chick I know. Who else could glare daggers at Changbin and threaten to kick his ass?”

Heejin laughed before sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. “Well, no one gets to pick on you except for me.”

“I forgot to tell you!” I exclaimed, suddenly remembering. “When I passed Mrs. Glass’ house like a week or so ago, I saw—”

“If you say a ghost, I will strangle you.”

“No. It wasn’t a ghost, Heej.” I ruffled her hair. “It was a guy. _The_ guy.” My heart hammered in my chest. She’d said earlier that she wanted to know about my crushes, and even though it was still awkward to talk about, I _did_ want to tell her about it. “Remember me telling you about Chan? Well, I finally saw him again.”

“Oh?” she asked, perking up with a smile. “Do tell.”

I told her about seeing him behind the tree and briefly chatting with him. And then how he’d randomly left without saying goodbye.

“Hmm. Maybe he’s, like, her grandson or something,” Heejin suggested before playfully narrowing her eyes at me. “Looks like you have another reason to be obsessed with that house.”

“Manor,” I corrected for the millionth time.

-

We made some popcorn and watched a few sci-fi movies. I didn’t mention ghosts again. Once Heejin went to bed, and I was lying on the couch in her room, I couldn’t sleep. I reached into my overnight bag and grabbed the psychic book I’d bought earlier.

The first chapter was about astral projection, and it was crazy to think someone could actually leave their own body and drift elsewhere.

My eyes got heavy as I read, using the desk lamp as my only light source. Mediumship was covered in chapter four, and the hairs on my nape stood on end as I read about them being able to communicate with the dead.

After doing some more digging on Mrs. Glass, I’d come across a website where she listed her psychic services. She didn’t use a fancy name like Madam Mystique or something like that. There was a photo of her, looking fairly normal, and she had a brief summary of her skills. Maybe she was a medium. If so, maybe she could help me figure out why I was seeing ghosts.

Hey, it’d finally be a reason to go see her anyway.

Even though it’d been over a week since we’d seen the woman in the graveyard and I’d heard that child’s voice in my room afterward, it still freaked me out a little. Not in the same way it scared Heejin, though. I wasn’t sure if the kid’s voice I’d heard had actually been real, but several nights since then, I’d gotten the feeling I was being watched.

_Like now._

I flipped around and looked at Heejin on her bed, checking to see if she was asleep. Her face was toward me, and her eyes were closed. Her chest softly rose and fell.

With a huff, I looked at my book. I was freaking myself out and should definitely try to get some shut eye.

Something moved in the far corner of the room.

I froze, seeing the shape from my peripheral. A shape that was ever slowly getting closer. My heart hammered in my chest, and I was pretty sure hair sprouted on my chest with the intensity of the goosebumps forming on every inch of my skin.

And then there was the emotion: confusion.

_Stop being a coward and just look at it_ , I coached myself. When I turned toward the shape, bile rose in my throat and my eyes stung.

The man was tall and had deep-set eyes, an ashen face, and black hair. Oh, and one side of his head was missing, as if it’d been blown off. I choked on a scream as he stood not even three feet from me, his body flickering in and out.

He focused on me with his dark eyes.

_“I did this,”_ he whispered. _“Why did I do this?”_

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t make a sound.

He flickered before disappearing and reappearing by the window, gazing out into the night. The gruesome side of his head was facing me.

Then, he was gone.

It took me minutes to finally compose myself, and even then, I was still shaking. There was fear, yeah, but it was mainly the shock and horror of what I’d seen that affected me so profoundly.

I didn’t know why I was all of a sudden seeing ghosts I couldn’t see before.

All of the times me and Heejin had gone to all those creepy places, I hadn’t seen anything. It’d all started with seeing the woman in white, as though some kind of barrier was removed that night. Not only was I seeing ghosts, but I was feeling things that should’ve been impossible, like being able to tune into people’s emotions—living and dead.

So, yeah. I didn’t know what was happening.

One thing I _did_ know? Heejin was _not_ going to find out that a dead man was in her room.


	5. chapter four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating for a while but i hope you enjoy this chapter! and stay safe for everyone who's protesting! love u all <3

**I** t was the last week of September. The leaves were beginning to change, and the air was crisp, but still held a little warmth. I took my time walking home from school that day, enjoying the weather. It was chilly enough to need a light jacket, and I snuggled more into my hoodie. My shoulder was still tender from where Changbin had shoved me into my locker that afternoon, and I had to wear my backpack on the other shoulder because of it.

It could always be worse, though.

Once on my street, I saw Mrs. Glass’ manor through the trees. With all of the weird things going on with me lately, it’d been put to the back of my mind, but it hadn’t been forgotten. Not in the slightest.

Something about it still called to me.

Moving down the sidewalk, I neared the mansion. It’d become routine for me to stop once in front of the gate, peer through the iron bars, and try to see if I could see any movement from inside the old manor. Lately, it’d also been to see if I could get glimpses of Chan again.

I was weird and kind of creepy, I suppose, and Mrs. Glass was bound to think I was crazy eventually.

When I got to the front gate, it swung open.

I halted my step and cocked my head at it. In the months I’d obsessed over the manor, not once had the gate ever been open. _Trespassing is a crime_ , I repeated to myself, staring down the driveway at the incredible manor, wanting to venture forward.

Fighting the urge to scope out the place, I took a deep breath and continued walking along the sidewalk. I was proud of myself. The temptation had been great. The tops of the surrounding trees began to sway with the breeze, and as I strolled, something odd occurred to me.

Only the trees on Mrs. Glass’ property were moving.

I looked across the street and gaped at the thin line of trees that stood completely still. My gaze moved back to the swaying trees around me, and a chill shot down my spine. It wasn’t natural.

Yeah, I needed to get home. I picked up my pace, taking bigger steps.

A gust of wind crashed into me so hard I stumbled backward.

_What the crap?_

My hair blew into my eyes, and I flicked it aside before adjusting my backpack on my shoulder. I stepped forward, only to be knocked back again.

That’s when I turned toward the manor. The woman with the long white hair stood on the porch, staring right at me, and my heart seized in my chest. She lifted a hand and crooked a finger at me.

The wind continued to blow around me, as if pulling me closer to the gate entrance. I couldn’t stop it. The force of it was so strong that if I didn’t move my feet, I’d be blown over. My breathing became labored with my effort to fight it, and my hair swirled around my face like I was caught in a tornado. I might’ve—okay totally—screamed.

Everything stopped.

No longer having the force of the wind hitting me from one side, I stumbled before righting myself. I looked around, my heart beating so loud I was sure the neighbors could hear it. What the heck just happened?

The woman was no longer on the porch, but the front door was opened. Almost as if it were an invitation. Maybe the freaky wind and Mrs. Glass beckoning to me had been a coincidence; that she’d had nothing to do with me being blown around like a paper bag.

I didn’t believe in coincidences.

Movement in one of the upstairs windows caught my eye, and right as I looked, it was gone. Something strange was definitely happening at that old manor. Any normal person would’ve been scared out of their wits.

I wasn’t normal. In fact, it only intrigued me more.

Just as I was about to step forward and pass through the gate, my phone buzzed.

“Hello?” I answered after digging it out of my jeans pocket.

“Jinnie, we have a situation,” Heejin said, and her tone was a bit frantic. “Something horrific.”

My first thought was that she’d finally seen the ghost in her room. I was already forming an apology in my head as to why I didn’t tell her about him sooner, when she sighed into the phone.

“I got asked out on a date.”

“Ew. That’s horrible news,” I mocked, but I was relieved it wasn’t serious like I’d thought. “How will you ever survive?”

Thank god she hadn’t seen the ghost. I’d thought of telling her several times in the past week about him, but she was just _now_ getting over her fear and able to sleep again at night. Ignorance was bliss.

“I’m seriously freaking out here, Jinne,” Heejin admitted. “Because I told him yes. And now I’m regretting it, because you know, what if he’s secretly a psycho serial killer or something?”

“Believe me, Heej, you’re scarier than any serial killer.” I wasn’t fully paying attention to her. My attention was still on the manor, and the open front door. A gut feeling told me that someone wanted me to go inside. “Who asked you?”

“Younghoon from band,” she answered, and a door closed on her side before an engine started. Band practice must’ve just ended.

“Wanna know my honest opinion?” I asked, finally tearing my gaze from the manor and continuing my journey home. “Calm down and go out with the guy. It’s only a date. Not a marriage proposal.”

“Ugh, you’re right. I guess.” She heaved a sigh. “What are you doing?”

“Just passed Mrs. Glass’ house on my way home.” I wanted to tell her about the weirdness that’d just happened, but for some reason, I didn’t. Maybe because I didn’t quite understand it myself.

“You and that house,” she muttered, and I could imagine her rolling her eyes. “Still planning on breaking in?”

“No,” I answered as I walked across my yard and up the steps.

I didn’t need to break in; I had an invitation.

“Good. It’s best to put that house behind you,” Heejin said. “All of the paranormal crap like the ghosts and the feelings you’ve been getting…it all started because of your obsession with that stupid house. I hate to break it to you, Jinnie, but I think you’re so determined to find an escape from reality that you’ll believe anything. Ghosts, psychic abilities, none of its real. It’s all in your head.”

I walked up the stairs and to my room before plopping on my bed.

“How can you say that after what we saw?” I asked. Her words had hurt. “Did you forget about the ghost in the graveyard?”

“Honestly, Hyunjin? We were probably seeing things. I mean. It’s been weeks and we haven’t seen any other ghosts. I think we were just hyped up on sugar and our imaginations got the best of us.”

“That’s bull and you know it,” I snapped. “You’re doing that denial thing where you convince yourself it didn’t happen to make it easier to cope with.”

“What if I am?” she asked in a defensive tone. “I want to forget about it all, okay? No more paranormal stuff. I want to get through school and at least pretend to be normal.”

The twinge in my chest hurt way worse than the one in my shoulder.

“We aren’t normal, though, Heej.”

Why did I suddenly feel alone?

“I gotta go, Jinnie,” she said, softer that time. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Sure.”

After getting off the phone, I tossed it on my bed and went down into the kitchen for some food and an ice pack for my arm. I didn’t know it if was bruised or just sore, but ice helped everything, right?

“How was school?” Mom asked as she grabbed plates from the cabinet. She was in yoga pants and a T-shirt and her hair was in a high ponytail.

“It was okay.” She’d cooked grilled chicken and broccoli, and I curled up my nose as I looked at it. It wasn’t that it tasted bad, but it hardly ever kept me full, and I’d end up sneaking chips into my room later. “How was your day?”

“Great! A few more people signed up for my class.” She filled our plates before going over to the table and siting down. She was a dance instructor and also had an exercise class at the gym that she taught four days a week.

“Cool.” I took my seat across from her. Neither of us ever sat in the chair at the head of the table. That was Dad’s seat, and I noticed Mom briefly look at it too, before looking at her food. “Thanks for dinner.”

“You’re welcome,” Mom replied with no emotion in her tone.

Dinner was pretty quiet between us. We’d never talked a whole lot and didn’t have much in common. A typical conversation was asking each other about our days and not much else.

Later that evening, I sat at my desk munching on a bag of chips and flipping through that book on psychic abilities. I’d read it several times since I’d bought it and was now highlighting passages and making my own notes beside them. Soon, I got to thinking about my walk home, and I opened a search engine on my laptop.

_Supernatural abilities that control elements._

The first result was a list of the different types of elemental abilities: controlling fire and water, and another where you could manipulate the weather. I clicked the link and it took me to a page that broke down each element and gave a description of the kinds of powers associated with each one.

I scrolled down to the section about air and wind.

Yep. Apparently there’d been cases where people created gusts of wind. The page was full of different real-life accounts of wind manipulation, and the more I read about it, the less crazy I felt. Other people had had similar experiences to mine.

Mrs. Glass was into all that mystic stuff. I’d thought that she was one of those fake psychics who said they had abilities, when in reality, they were phonies. But maybe she actually had gifts.

I tossed another chip into my mouth and chewed as I thought. If Mrs. Glass _was_ a witch, psychic, or whatever and had manipulated the wind to get my attention… why? Why did she want me to go to her house?

_Probably because you’ve been stalking said house and she wants to boil your innards for some kind of potion._

Okay. Yeah, I’d done enough research for the night. I closed out of the browser and left my room to go brush my teeth. On my way back, something darted across the hall, and I snapped my head that way.

It always freaking happened from the corner of my eye, so I didn’t know if it was real or just my imagination.

The time on my phone said ten-thirty, and I sighed before getting into bed. I wasn’t tired. Too much was on my mind: the incident with Mrs. Glass and then Heejin basically calling me crazy. I knew she’d only said those things to help herself sleep better at night. If she convinced herself it wasn’t real, she could go on with her life.

And really, I couldn’t be mad at her for that.

It hadn’t been her decision to do all of the ghost hunting stuff anyway, and I’d pushed her into it. How could I force her to stay when she so desperately wanted to forget?

_“Have you seen my mommy?”_

Hearing the whispery voice, I jerked upward. The light switch was on the other side of my room, and my desk lamp was out of reach. I’d have to get off the bed to turn on either of them. As my eyes adjusted to the room, I saw a shape at the foot of my bed.

A pale face looked at me from the dark.

With shaking hands, I fumbled for my phone. Once it was in my hand, I unlocked it and held it up. Big mistake. The boy had moved closer, and as the blue light from the phone highlighted his face, I yelped and shot backward, my back hitting the wall.

His hair was wet and droplets of water trickled down his face. He looked like he was maybe five or six. _“I’m cold.”_

I closed my eyes, hoping he’d go away. The dead man in Heejin’s room had only stayed for a few seconds before disappearing. However, when I looked again, the boy was still there, staring at me with big, dark eyes.

“Um, hi,” I said, feeling ten kinds of stupid, but what the heck was I supposed to do? I couldn’t exactly ignore the kid.

That’s when I realized that my fear wasn’t just mine… it was his, too.

_“Have you seen my mommy?”_ he asked again before sitting on the floor and sobbing into his hands. It sounded like the sobbing was coming from all around me, and it had that fragmented quality like the woman from the graveyard.

“No, I haven’t,” I answered him. “Can you tell me your name?”

The sobbing stopped, and he lifted his head to stare at me. _“Mommy didn’t help when I screamed.”_

Then, he vanished.

-

I was a zombie at school the next day. No, zombies were more alive than me. I hadn’t slept at all and had replayed the scene with the crying boy over and over. He’d been afraid—I’d sensed it. Instead of being freaked out by him, I’d felt sad.

Whatever happened to him, he’d died wanting his mom. I wasn’t sure if it was even possible, but I wanted to help him.

At lunch, Heejin was already at our table when I walked over.

“Hey.” I sat and jabbed at the meatloaf with my fork. It jiggled a little. What kind of meatloaf jiggled? I put my fork down and took a drink of my soda instead.

“You look awful,” Heejin pointed out like the sweetheart she was. “I hope it’s not because of what I said yesterday.”

Finally, I looked at her. Any anger I might’ve felt toward her was short-lived.

“It wasn’t you,” I sort of lied, because it _had_ partly been because of her. Before the ghost appeared, anyway. “Something happened last night, and I can’t even talk to my best friend about it, because she’s in denial.”

Heejin’s brow crinkled. “Forget what I said and talk to me, Hwang Hyunjin, or I swear I’ll thump you upside the head.”

“You sure?”

“Duh. Talk. Now.”

“Okay, but remember that you asked,” I said, arching a brow. “There was a ghost in my room last night.”

“What?” she asked a bit too loud and students at the next table looked over at us. She rolled her eyes at them before turning back to me. “What did it look like?”

“A little boy,” I answered as grief for him rose again. “He was so scared, Heej. I don’t know how to explain it, but I need to help him. Maybe the reason I’m so fascinated by ghosts and why I’ve all of a sudden got some kind of sixth sense is because I’m supposed to help them.”

“Help them… what? Move on?” she asked before taking a bite of the meatloaf. She made a face and spat it back out. “Don’t eat that, by the way, or you’ll end up as a ghost too.”

Wouldn’t _that_ be an interesting story? In the afterlife, someone would ask, _“Hey, how did you die?”_

And I’d have to answer, _“Ate the school meatloaf.”_

How tragic.

“I don’t know,” I answered her. “Maybe. All I know is I’m drawn to them, and apparently they’re drawn to me too.”

“Hi, Heejin,” Younghoon said from behind me.

I looked at him over my shoulder. He had shaggy dark hair and big, puppy-dog brown eyes.

“Can I sit with you?”

Looking back at Heejin, I wiggled my eyebrows. She smiled sweetly at him, but I caught the tightness in her jaw. Yeah, the dude was already annoying her and it’d only been a day.

“I need to go to the library before my next class,” I lied, standing up and grabbing my tray. “Have fun, guys.”

Heejin started to protest, but Younghoon plopped down and began talking her ear off. He was a nice guy from what I knew, but Heejin was… well, Heejin. She got annoyed easily.

On my way home from school, I walked a little faster than usual, eager to get to my street. My curiosity was piqued too much for me to think of anything other than the manor and how, if given another opportunity, I’d go inside.

As I neared the front gate, I slowed my pace.

The gate was open again.

I stood at the end of the driveway and faced the mansion, taking in the sheer beauty of it. It needed a fresh coat of paint, the busted window on the second story needed to be repaired, and the yard needed to be mowed, but it was still absolutely incredible. I’d read that manors like that had secret passageways and hidden chambers.

Most of them were said to be haunted too.

“Don’t just stand there, boy,” a woman said to my left, and I nearly had a heart attack. She stepped out from the enclosure of trees and pointed at me. Her long white hair was braided down her back instead of flowing free as usual. She wasn’t as old as I imagined her to be. Only a few wrinkles were visible on her otherwise youthful face. “Come inside. We have things to discuss. I’ll put on some tea.”


	6. chapter five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SKZ COMEBACK TOMORROW OMG I'M NOT READY ALSLKJDJL SKZ WORLD DOMINATION PERIOD !!!!!! anyways hope u enjoy this chapter sorry for da slow burn tho but i warned ya in the tags

**T** he inside of the manor was even more amazing than I’d imagined. Where the outside needed a little work to restore it to its former glory, the inside was immaculate. Not dusty and full of cobwebs like some people speculated. Okay, maybe like I’d speculated too. The walls were a dark wood with high arched ceilings and there were so many rooms, I was sure I’d get lost in there if given the chance to explore.

Mrs. Glass led me through the entry hall, past a large fireplace and hanging wall prints, and into a sitting room. A platter with a fancy tea pot, sugar bowl, and two cups were placed on a small round table with two cushioned chairs around it.

“Have a seat,” she said, motioning to one of the chairs. Her dress reminded me of the Bohemian style, with the assortment of colors, silky appearance, and embroidery.

I did as she said and admired the room in silent awe. My gaze darted from one painting to the next before looking at the designs in the wood of the column in the corner. A fireplace was to the left and an antique clock sat on the mantel, surrounded by knickknacks. There was so much to look at.

I wondered if that was the room where she did her readings. Probably.

“Yes,” she said, and I gaped at her. “I have no clients today, however, so let’s get started.”

“H-how did you re—”

“Do you know why you’re here, boy?” Mrs. Glass asked, sitting across from me and pouring hot tea into the cup in front of me. The freshly brewed tea and place setting told me she’d known she’d have company.

“Because I’m in trouble?” I guessed, watching the steam waft from my cup.

“Don’t be silly. What ever would you be in trouble for? Staring at my house? Much better than the hoodlums who sneak onto my property and throw rocks at my windows.” Mrs. Glass dropped a sugar cube into her tea and stirred it around. “No, dear boy. You’re here for a different reason.”

Tick. Tock. The clock was soothing in a way. The only sound in an otherwise quiet room.

I wanted to ask what that reason _was_ , but I couldn’t speak. What if the reason was something morbid? Like she needed my blood for some kind of satanic ritual and—

“You’re not going to be sacrificed,” she interrupted, eyeing me curiously before lifting her tea to her lips. Her green eyes were pale, reminding me of some kind of gem.

“Can you read minds?” I asked.

Mrs. Glass gave a cunning smile. “One doesn’t have to read minds in order to know your thoughts, Hyunjin. Your face gives much away. Now, come. Drink your tea.”

I dropped my gaze to it before looking back up at her.

“If I wanted to kill you, boy, it wouldn’t be by poisoning the tea.”

My face heated and I reached for my cup. I added a sugar cube to it before stirring and taking a sip. I usually wasn’t much of a tea-drinker, but it was actually pretty good.

A creak overhead made me jolt, and I looked upward at the ceiling.

“These old homes like to creak and groan,” Mrs. Glass said, watching me with a humored expression.

Something told me she knew something I didn’t.

“I saw a boy here the other day,” I blurted out. “When I was walking home, he was at the fence line. Does he live here?”

A gleam shone in her eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” I answered, shrugging. “I met him last year on Halloween, and then it was like he’d disappeared off the face of the Earth. It was a shock to see him again.”

He had to go to school somewhere, right? It made sense for him to go to my high school, but I would’ve recalled seeing him there if that was the case. How had he been practically invisible for a year?

“That’s a discussion for another day,” she said. “You’ve been experiencing oddities as of late. Feeling things you don’t understand and seeing things you can’t quite explain.”

I gaped at her. “How did you know?”

She ignored my question.

“You sense you’re not like everyone else, don’t you?” she asked, placing her tea back on the table. Her gaze on me was unwavering.

I nodded, and she sighed.

“That’s because you’re not. You have such potential inside you, Hyunjin. Gifts you haven’t even awoken yet.”

“Is this where you say I’m a wizard, and I get to go on a cool train to a magical school where I’ll have epic adventures?” I tended to make jokes when I was nervous.

Mrs. Glass didn’t find me as funny as I did. She reached for her tea again, as did I, and a silence passed.

“Do you know what an empath is?” she asked.

I’d come across the term in my research. “Isn’t it someone who can sympathize with other people?”

“That’s _being_ empathetic, but an empath is completely different,” she explained. “An empath can literally _feel_ the emotions of another person; mentally, emotionally, and even physically. Sound familiar?”

Too stunned, I could only nod.

“Some empaths come into their abilities later in life, but some discover them when they’re younger. Usually around their sixteenth birthday.”

“That’s when it started for me,” I said in a quiet voice. “It didn’t start out so strong, though. I used to get certain feelings about places, kind of like I sensed something happened there, but I didn’t know what. But in the past few weeks, it’s gotten more intense. I’m not only drawn to places, but I feel things that come out of nowhere. Like I get angry for no reason or sad, and if I’m around someone who’s upset, I get upset too.”

I silently pleaded for her to help me. To give me more answers as to why I was this way. To tell me how she knew about me before I’d met her.

“You have your gifts, and I have mine,” she replied, answering my unspoken question.

“But _why_ do I have it? Why do you?” I felt crazy even considering she was telling the truth. However, I couldn’t deny all the strange things that’d happened to me lately, so I kind of had no choice but to believe her.

“Destiny,” she said before taking another drink. “Gifts like ours are given for a reason. We were chosen.”

“Chosen for what?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?” Mrs. Glass smiled. “Some people go through life never finding the answer. But sometimes, the answer presents itself when you least expect it, and suddenly, everything becomes clear. You discover the reason you were put on this Earth.”

“Have you found yours yet?”

“Perhaps,” she said.

A beeping sounded from the other room, and I sharply turned in my chair.

“Oh calm yourself.” Mrs. Glass stood and moved toward the open archway. “It’s only the cookies.”

_Cookies._ Suddenly, things were looking up.

She returned a few minutes later with a round plate piled with still hot and gooey chocolate chip cookies straight from the oven. “They should probably sit and cool first, but I sense your eagerness. Take one, but be careful. They’re hot.”

I moaned as I bit into it. It was homemade too, not the store bought frozen kind. I was pretty much in heaven.

“Are you a psychic?” I asked before shoving the rest of the cookie into my mouth. “I saw online that you do readings and stuff here.”

“I am,” she answered, ever so patiently. “It’s how I make my living.”

“Where’s your crystal ball?”

“In the closet with my broom.”

I stopped chewing on my second cookie and regarded her. Then, seeing the humor in her eyes, I grinned. “Did you create that wind yesterday?” I asked her once finishing that cookie and reaching for a third. “That was freaky, but cool.”

“I had to get your attention somehow,” she answered with a smile. A pretty satisfied one too, if I might add. “You’ve been stopping at my gate for months, but you never once thought to open it and come knock on my door.”

“I thought about it plenty,” I admitted. “And if I’m being totally honest, I might’ve even considered—”

“Breaking into my house? Yes, I’m aware.” She grabbed a cookie and nibbled at it, having way more self-control than me. My eyes widened, and an apology was on my lips, but she held up her hand to stop me. “No need to explain. The draw to my house is to blame for that, boy. You and I were fated to meet. I saw it.”

“In a vision?” I guessed. “Are you a real psychic? Like able to see the future and read minds and stuff?”

“Yes, in a vision,” she answered. The way she eyed me was curious, as if she didn’t quite know what to make of me. That made two of us. “Our paths were destined to cross. I also know you’ve been seeing spirits.”

Now she _really_ had my attention. I leaned forward on the table. “Why am I seeing them now when I couldn’t see them before?”

“They’re drawn to you,” Mrs. Glass responded. “With you being an empath, you’re like a magnet for them. They sense your energy and capacity to understand them. Most are lost and desperate to move on. Some spirits are aware and can hold conversations. They can hide themselves, appearing and disappearing at will. Others are… how can I put this? Stuck and living their deaths over and over. They have little awareness of what’s around them. They are forever frozen in their final moment.”

That sounded a lot like the little boy in my room and the man I’d seen at Heejin’s house. Also, the woman in the cemetery.

“They expect me to help them? Is it possible for me to?”

“Yes, it is. It can be tricky, though.”

“I think I’m a little over ghosts,” I confessed. “It’s so sad being around them. And kinda creepy.”

Mrs. Glass moved her gaze to the corner of the room before looking back at me and drinking more tea. A chill went down my spine as I suddenly got the feeling we weren’t alone.

“That’s enough for today,” she said, standing from the cushioned chair. “Your mother will be wondering where you are, if I keep you much longer.”

“I’m not ready to leave.” I stood and approached her. “I finally feel like someone understands me. You know things about me that I’m still trying to figure out for myself.”

Her green eyes flickered to my face. “Return Friday after school. We’ll talk more then.”

“Friday’s not for another two days,” I whined.

“Be patient,” she said, leading me to the front door.

“Do I owe you anything for our visit?” I asked, remembering that she made her living by talking to people like me.

“Don’t be silly, boy. I don’t want your money.”

Before I left, I turned to her.

“Thank you, Mrs. Glass.” Although I still had so many questions about my supposed gifts and all the ghosts I’d been seeing, I was relieved I wasn’t alone. That someone understood what I was going through. “For everything.”

Her face softened and she patted my arm. “Get home before it gets too late.” I started walking outside, but she stopped me on the porch. “Oh, and Hyunjin? Call me Ethel.”

I smiled before going down the steps and down the driveway.

As I walked home, I replayed the events of the last hour. I _did_ have a psychic ability, which was reassuring, because I’d started believing I was insane thinking I was something special.

An empath. Out of all the abilities I’d researched, it wasn’t that exciting. Mind reading or something like that would’ve been much more awesome. In a way, it kind of felt like a curse. I didn’t like feeling overwhelmed in crowds of people when several different emotions hit me at once. I didn’t like feeling drained after school.

At least now I understood why I loved my quiet walks home.

Mom was sitting in the living room when I walked through the door. She lifted her head to look at me before mumbling a ‘ _hey, how was school_ ,’ and I gave a half-assed answer. One of her favorite shows was on, so she focused back on the TV, not even asking why I was late coming home.

I could’ve been kidnapped, and she wouldn’t even realize it until the day after probably.

I made a sandwich and trudged up the stairs to my room.

-

“You WHAT?” Heejin pinned me with a stare. Kids around us all turned to look, but once seeing it was her, they quickly turned back the other way. “You went into her house? Are you crazy? She could’ve been a psycho, Jinnie. I mean, hello? Stranger danger!”

“Are you done?”

She narrowed her eyes.

“Ethel is actually a really cool lady,” I said. “She—”

“You call her Ethel now?” Heejin interjected.

“Shh.” I put a hand over her mouth. “Anyway, she invited me in for tea and cookies, and while I was there, we—”

“Tea and cookies? Good god she is a witch. Did she try to put you in the oven after that?”

“That’s it.” I slumped against the wall and crossed my arms. “If you don’t want to hear what happened, I’m not going to waste my breath.”

Since it was a nice day, we were outside at lunch and sitting on the grass. There were a few clouds in the sky, but it was sunny for the most part. The trees swayed in the light breeze, and a crow cawed nearby. I loved that sound. I’d waited until lunch to tell Heejin what happened, knowing she’d have a million and five questions.

Now I regretted mentioning it. She clearly didn’t care.

“Sorry, Jinnie.” She looked genuinely apologetic. “What did you talk about with her? Was she old and haggard like people say? Did her house smell like old lady perfume and have a bunch of cats?”

“Nope,” I said, tilting my head back and staring up at the blue sky. “It was amazing, Heej. I wanted to go exploring and check out all the rooms. I could totally live there. It was beautiful and slightly creepy. Just awesome. She told me things too, and the more she talked, the more I realized it hasn’t all been in my head. That the things I’ve been experiencing are real.”

A guilty expression crossed my best friend’s face. “I should’ve never said that to you. I really am sorry. It’d just be easier if ghosts weren’t real and our imaginations had just gotten the better of us, you know?” She sighed and stretched her legs out on the grass. “How did she know about you?”

“Because she’s like me, I guess,” I answered. “She had a vision about me, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure she can read minds.”

Heejin squinted as she looked ahead. “This is all so weird.”

“Weird doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

A group of popular girls were giggling and practicing cheerleading moves, and some guys were watching them and nudging each other. Minho was sitting at one of the outside tables, talking to his football buddies. Changbin and his goons were sitting at the other table and kept tossing looks at me. Thankfully, none of them gave me trouble.

The goth kids were sitting under a big tree in the shade, and other students sat on the grass like me and Heejin.

Everyone seemed so normal; completely unaware that ghosts walked among them. They’d graduate, go to college, and probably get married and have kids. The supernatural world would only be something they thought about in terms of fantasy and fiction. Their lives would forever be ordinary.

As I sat there, contemplating life, I saw a figure flicker on the other side of the courtyard. It looked to be a teenaged girl.

Her short hair was curly and red… wait, no her hair was blonde. The blood soaked in the strands made it look red from afar. Bile rose in my throat. She was almost as gruesome as the dead man in Heejin’s room. I stared at her, wide-eyed, before looking around.

No one else saw her. Not even Heejin, who was looking right in her direction.

The girl’s shape flickered before she walked out into the road. She snapped her head to the side and looked at me. My stomach dropped as a semi drove right through her. When it passed, she was nowhere to be seen.

“Hyunjin?” Heejin touched my arm, and I jumped. “Hey, what’s wrong? Oh my god, you’re pale.”

“You didn’t see her?” My voice was shaking.

“See who?” Heejin scanned the courtyard.

“No one,” I lied, standing up and making sure I didn’t have grass on my butt. “The bell’s about to ring.”

The rest of the day went on, but my mind was elsewhere for most of my classes. All except for art. It was the one subject that could hold my attention, no matter what kind of storm was brewing in my head.

“Today, in the spirit of the approaching Halloween season, I have an assignment for you,” Mr. Sohn announced. He was pretty hot, with reddish-brown hair, hazel eyes, and a butt that could fill out slacks like a pro. And no, his hotness had nothing to do with my newfound attention span. “I want you to draw something that scares you. It could be anything; spiders, snakes, or even something more complex. Whatever you want. I’m giving you a few weeks to work on it, so you can have class time today to brainstorm your ideas and get started.”

“Well, I know what I’m drawing,” Heejin whispered. “I still think about that thing in the graveyard.”

If only she knew the ghost that resided in her room. She’d think the one from the graveyard was an angel.

I really should tell her sometime. Actually getting the words out of my mouth was hard, though, because I knew she’d freak out and probably refuse to ever go in her room again.

“What are you going to draw?” she asked.

“I’m not sure.” I looked at my sketchpad, seeing nothing but a blank page.

Inspiration was lost to me. Ghosts creeped me out a little, but they didn’t scare me. I didn’t like spiders crawling on me, but they weren’t scary, either. Snakes were kind of cool. I guess I was afraid of dying, maybe, but it was more the unknown that scared me, like where we went afterward.

Ghosts stayed behind because they couldn’t let go. They couldn’t move on to the afterlife.

Maybe there _wasn’t_ an afterlife.

As my mind jumped from one thing to the next, I reached up and grabbed the dog tag around my neck. If my gift allowed me to experience the supernatural, to see and communicate with the dead… maybe I could somehow talk to my dad again.

Reason told me that he wasn’t a ghost somewhere. That he’d moved on and was waiting for me and mom on the other side.

But what if I could reach him? If I could just tell him I loved him one last time, to hug him again, maybe I wouldn’t hurt so much.

After school, Heejin invited me over to her house. Not in the mood to be alone and ignored by my mom, I agreed. It’d be nice to catch up with her anyway, even though it’d only been a few days since we’d last hung out. She lived in a nice, two-story house a few blocks from mine.

I asked her about Younghoon once we walked through the front door, and she snarled.

“That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.” She walked into the kitchen, and I followed her. “Our date isn’t until Friday night, and I already want it to be over.” She tossed me a soda from the fridge before popping one open for herself and taking a drink. “He’s a nice guy and everything, but he’s _very_ needy. He sent me over twenty texts last night.”

“Hey, I resent that. I send you a lot too.”

“Yeah, but you’re _you_. Younghoon makes me feel smothered.”

“Is that my Hyunjin I hear in here?” Heejin’s mom asked as she entered the kitchen. Other than the fact her hair was shorter, Heejin was the spitting image of her.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, hugging her. She always wore expensive perfume, but not the kind that made me sneeze. “Is it okay if I hang out?”

“Of course.” She ruffled my hair before going over to the stove and stirring whatever was in the pot. “I hope you’re hungry. I’m making chicken-n-dumplings.”

We talked with her for a bit, and as she asked me how I’d been, wanting to know about everything going on in my life, I couldn’t help but feel sad.

My own mom never tried so hard to talk to me. She was content with small talk and then ignoring each other for the rest of the night. She’d never been great at expressing her emotions and had often seemed cold and distant.

After Dad died, it took her a while to look at me, because I looked so much like him. I got the feeling sometimes that she was counting down the days until I got old enough to live on my own. And as of late—as my empath abilities had become more known—I’d felt resentment coming from her.

Dinner was incredible, and I ate so much I felt like I was going to bust.

“Later on, I’ll make some coffee,” Heejin’s mom said. “I bought a new pumpkin spice creamer we can try.”

“You’re a godsend,” I said, rinsing off my plate and putting it in the dishwasher.

Once me and Heejin ran up the stairs to her room, I saw him.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

The dead man stood by the window, the shredded part of his head facing us. He didn’t say anything that time. He just looked up at me before disappearing. And just like earlier that day at lunch, Heejin hadn’t seen him.

“Earth to Jinnie?” Heejin waved her hand in front of my face. “You okay?”

I blinked and focused on her. “Yep. I’m fine.”

If only it was true.


	7. chapter six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh sorry for not updating for a while but STREAM GOD'S MENU FOR CLEAR SKINBYE

**T** hat Friday afternoon, I went through the gate toward Mrs. Glass’ house. The trees on either side of the driveway added that haunted feel to the place, especially when seeing the monster of a manor waiting at the end. With the plethora of windows, arched roofs, tall tower, and balconies, it really was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen.

A car was leaving, and I stepped aside to let it pass. Ethel must’ve just finished a reading.

Excitement bubbled all through me as I passed through the front garden and walked up the steps to the porch. The door swung open, slow and creaky, reminding me so much of a horror movie.

I grinned and ducked inside.

“How lovely to see you again, Hyunjin,” Ethel greeted me. She was wearing another Bohemian-type outfit, but instead of a dress, it was a flowing pair of pants and lavender colored blouse. “I just put on some tea.”

“Was that a customer I passed?”

“Yes,” she answered. “The poor woman believes finding love will solve all her problems.”

“And is she going to find it?” I asked, absorbed in the conversation maybe a bit too much. “Did the cards foresee a sexy man coming into her life?”

Ethel gave me a blank stare. “No.”

“Oh.” My smiled waned. “That sucks.”

Once again, I admired the house and moved at a leisurely pace through the rooms.

“It was built in the late 1800s,” Ethel said before stopping and lifting a brow at me. “But you already knew that. I’m pleased to see not all the youths of today are lost to mindless and idiotic behavior. A young man such as yourself needs to read books of all types.”

“No worries there. Pretty much all I do is read, and if I’m not doing that, I’m drawing.” I halted in step to look at a painting on the wall. It was of a winter scene; snow piled several feet high, and nestled in the center was an old cottage. A candle sat in the windowsill of the cottage, the only light apart from the scattering of stars and the crescent moon. I could almost smell the crisp air and feel the biting cold on my skin. “This is beautiful.”

“Ah, yes.” Ethel walked to my side and stared up at it. “I’ve fancied this painting ever since I was a young girl. Simple, yet stunning. It’s Chan’s favorite too.”

Hearing his name made my heart skip a beat.

“Chan?” I asked, forgetting all about the painting. “Is he here?”

Ethel focused on me, and there was a spark in her soft eyes. “He’s usually always lurking around here somewhere, so perhaps you’ll meet him again soon.”

Something about that twinkle in her eyes as she mentioned him made me wonder if she _knew_ about me. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d been able to read my mind.

When she began walking again, I hurried after her. “How old is Chan?”

Chan and I’d talked a lot at the coffee shop that night, but never about anything too personal. We’d discussed small things like costumes, the weather, different kinds of coffee, and I’d told him about some of my classes. He’d never said anything about himself, other than his mom had died.

It occurred to me then that if Chan _was_ Ethel’s grandson and his mom had died, that meant Ethel had lost a daughter. I didn’t see any pictures around, though. Maybe the reminder was too painful for her.

Ethel entered the sitting room we’d been in before and motioned for me to sit. I did. The smile at the corner of her mouth told me she was enjoying making me wait.

“He’s your age,” she answered, pouring us each a cup of hot tea. “I feel as though he has a much older soul, however. Much like you.”

I added sugar to mine before taking a drink.

Now I admit, it _was_ a little weird to be sitting there with an older woman, sipping tea, and talking about her grandson—who I was intrigued to meet even though I knew nothing about him, other than he was a fan of art and around my age.

But then again… things had been weirder.

“Out with it, boy,” Ethel said, cocking a brow. “I know you must have a million questions buzzing in that skull of yours.”

Oh, I did.

“How am I an empath?” I asked, bouncing my leg. “Is it passed down through bloodline? And if so, does that mean someone else in my family had it too?”

I’d done a lot of research, and nothing I found explained why people were given certain gifts. Some with the abilities were witches, but some hadn’t been. They’d just been normal people who woke up one day with the power to control the wind or communicate with animals.

Ethel studied me. “You truly don’t know? Has your mother shielded you _that_ much from the truth?”

_Um, okay. What the crap?_

“Your grandmother, on your father’s side, was one of the most skilled witches I’d ever met,” Ethel said with a sad smile. “She could whip up a spell like no one else, and not only that, but she had such grace to her and a will to do good in the world. To help people. Your father got that kind heart from her, and so did you. I learned so much from her.”

My breath hitched. “You knew my grandma?”

The question was stupid because she’d just admitted she had, but it was a shock.

I’d only met my grandma a few times. Mom had a falling out with her and forbade me to see her. The memory was vague, but I remembered Mom fighting with Dad about it one night, saying how grandma was a bad influence and how she didn’t want me around her.

Dad had refused to keep me from seeing grandma, but then Mom threatened to leave him and take me with her. Out of fear of losing me, he’d agreed.

I never knew the reason for Mom behaving that way. Honestly, it’d made me mad when I thought about it. Mom had told me that grandma was sick in the mind, and that if I wasn’t careful I’d end up just like her. Dad would tighten his jaw when Mom said stuff like that.

Grandma had passed away when I was twelve. She’d gone to sleep one night and never woke up.

“What your mother did was unkind. Wrong,” Ethel said. “Keeping you from seeing her and treating your father that way, all because she didn’t understand what Jiwoo was. She spoke often of you, of how you were growing into a fine young man.” She looked to the antique clock on the mantel. “That was a gift from her before she passed. Time is such a precious gift, Hyunjin. A mere second can last a lifetime and a day can seem like only a moment, here and then gone so quickly.”

“So that’s why you’ve taken an interest in me?” I asked. “Because you were close with my grandma?”

Suddenly it made sense, and in a strange way, I was happy. I had very few memories of my grandma, and maybe getting to know Ethel better would help me learn more about her. About both of them.

“Yes,” she answered, reaching across the small table and patting my hand. “She had suspicions that you had the gift, but she didn’t know for sure. Before she passed, she asked me to watch over you. Then, when I had a vision of you, I knew it was time to finally reach out to you.”

“What was in your vision?” I took a drink of tea, but it was cold now. Still good, though, so I took another drink.

“That, my boy, I cannot tell you.” Ethel looked remorseful about that fact too. “One of the burdens of having sight is knowing when to intervene and when to stay silent and allow fate to take its course.”

Many possibilities flashed through my head of what she could’ve seen, like maybe my death or something. But there wasn’t a point of sitting and dwelling on it, because like she’d said, time was precious.

“So I’m a warlock? For real?”

My years of dreaming for a _Hogwarts_ letter was finally coming true—well, sort of. I wasn’t being whisked away to a special school for magical teenagers or anything, but finding out your grandma was a powerful witch and that you inherited such gifts? That was a close second.

Ethel smiled. “You have a very special bloodline, yes. Your skills must be realized and honed—practiced—before you are a true warlock. That’s where I come in.” She pressed her lips into a line then and tapped her nail on the table top. “But that’s only if you choose this, Hyunjin. I will not force you to do anything you don’t wish to do. Unfortunately, your powers will still grow, and you’ll never have a normal life… but if you say you don’t want this life, I will bid you good day and you can leave.”

“I’ve never been normal, Mrs. Glas—er, Ethel. Never. For the first time, I feel I have a purpose in life. I want this. I want to learn everything you’re willing to teach me. Please.”

“Then I will do all I can to make you the best warlock you can be,” she said, seeming relieved.

“Is your grandson a warlock too?” I asked. It’d be nice to have someone else like me to talk to. Even if he wasn’t _totally_ like me.

She hadn’t said he was her grandson, but I assumed. Why else would a young guy be hanging around here, if not a relative?

“Chan has other gifts,” Ethel answered, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I felt a trickle of sadness before it vanished.

Her eyes focused on me, and it was then I realized I didn’t really _feel_ much around her, as if she was able to hide from my empath ability. Or maybe I was reading too much into it and it was because my power wasn’t strong enough yet.

“Would you like a tour of the manor?”

Was it a tad suspicious she asked such a thing right when I was mid-thought about her hiding something? _Yes._ Did I care, though?

“Um, that’d be freaking amazing,” I said with a bit too much excitement. “I’ve been dying to explore this place.”

Well, that answered that.

I never knew a house could have so many rooms. But it _was_ a mansion. There was a large kitchen, a dining room, two sitting rooms—one bigger than the other—several bedrooms, a greenroom that led to a terrace outside, a library, and a study. And that was just downstairs.

When we reached the staircase, I couldn’t move for a moment. It was incredible, no spectacular. Honestly, I didn’t know the word for it.

“Wow,” I said, craning my neck to look at the ceiling. “Can I move in?”

A glass dome was on the ceiling, not too large but big enough to brighten the room immensely. After the first flight of stairs, there was a flat landing with a decorative table, lamp and windows that gave a view of the backyard, and then the stairs curved to go up to the second floor.

“I feel your mother would have many words to say about that and none of them good,” Ethel replied with a shake of her head. “Come now. There’s an even bigger library on the next floor. It’s my favorite room in the manor.”

We passed a large study and a multitude of closed doors I assumed were guest bedrooms. The corridor was long and narrow, the carpet was a deep purple, and the walls were a dark wood.

When we arrived in the library, I seriously thought I’d died and gone to nerd heaven.

Shelves overflowing with books stretched all around the room, and there was one of those sliding ladders to reach the ones up top. It was also in two levels, books on both. In the center of the outside wall was a panel of windows that brought light into the room, shining right on a large, oak desk.

“Some of these books are hundreds of years old,” Ethel said, lightly running her fingers over the spines. “Anything you ever need to know about magic, psychic abilities, and the supernatural world, you can find in this room.”

I twitched a little, taking it all in. My research-loving heart was about to burst, and I wanted to devour all the books, filling my head with as much as I could.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you by giving you too many books at once.” Ethel tapped her chin as she walked along the shelves. “Aha.” She grabbed a book before moving farther down and grabbing another. After looking a moment longer, she came back over and handed them to me. “Start off by reading these. One is about being an empath, detailing what it is and how your ability might be strengthened as you grow. There are also examples of how to decompress and replenish yourself. The other is about spirits.”

Both books were leather-bound and had that amazing old book smell.

“I must warn you,” Ethel spoke, drawing my attention back up to her. Her sharp features tensed as worry came into her green eyes. “When it comes to the paranormal, specifically spirits, the more your eyes are opened, the more you’ll see. They can sense your energy, and when you open yourself up to their world, it can be like a beacon for them.”

I gulped. “Can they hurt me?”

“Most are not malicious, dear boy. They only want to be heard, to move on,” she responded, and I heaved a sigh of relief. “But the few you’ve been seeing as of late are only the beginning, if you go down this path.”

I smoothed my hand over the cover. Thinking. There really was no going back after this.

“You said before that it’s possible to help them.” I lifted my gaze to hers. “Can I eventually help them move on?”

“Yes.”

I thought of my dad then, of how courageous and selfless he was. He died for our country, saving lives in the process. With my free hand, I touched the dog tag around my neck. Warmth seeped through my bones, and I knew what I had to do.

“Let’s get started,” I said.

Ethel told me what she knew about spirits, but she explained that helping them move on varied from person to person. It was something that would come to me when I needed it most. Only then would I know how to set them free. So talk of ghosts then turned to magic and how to better understand it.

“What’s this?” I asked as I flipped through one of the books about magical bloodlines.

“Each family has a family familiar,” Ethel said after looking at the page with the family crests and descriptions. “The Glass family’s animal is the white fox. It represents teaching and guidance.”

I smiled. “That fits you. You’re like my Mr. Miyagi.”

“Pardon?”

“Pop culture reference,” I said with a wave of my hand. “He was a karate master.”

“Very well,” she said, eyeing me through her purple glasses. She only wore them when she was reading and they had one of those gaudy chains that allowed her to hang them around her neck.

“Wait,” I said as something suddenly occurred to me. “So a familiar is kinda like our family Patronus?”

Oh, this was too cool. I was nerding out.

Ethel blinked at me. “Another pop culture reference?”

“Maybe.”

She sighed.

“What’s the animal for me?” I asked.

“The Hwang line is very special. Some families share a familiar, but the Hwangs’s are the only ones to have a raven as theirs.”

“What’s so special about the raven?”

“Everything,” Ethel said with such seriousness that the hairs on my nape stood on end. “The raven is a symbol of magic, of energy. Of courage, introspection, and healing. With the raven by your side, you can find light within the darkness.”

My gut told me that last part was important. I just didn’t know why.

“Dad had a raven tattoo,” I said, making conversation. It wasn’t until after I said it that I stopped and thought about it, though. “Wait. Did Dad know about our bloodline?”

The gleam in Ethel’s eyes made my breathing kick up a notch.

“Your father knew, yes.” She exhaled and stood before walking over to the panel of windows. “And before you ask, no he wasn’t a warlock. He knew about magic, but the gift wasn’t passed down to him. That didn’t stop him from using his other gifts, though. Such as being a protector, a loving father, and someone who would race into a burning building without hesitation to save a life.”

_Or shield someone with his own body during a shootout._

I blinked back tears and cleared my throat. “Did he know about the raven being our family familiar?”

“Yes,” she answered, staring out the window.

“Do you think that… that I could ever…”

I couldn’t bring myself to ask what I wanted to ask. If I could see ghosts, could I ever see him too?

Ethel turned and faced me. “He is not a spirit, sweet boy. His soul has passed on from this world. But he still watches over you.”

And somehow, that _did_ make me feel better.

-

Saturday afternoon, I was lying on a blanket in the backyard and reading through the book about empaths. The day was too nice to be cooped up inside. Mom was teaching one of her dance classes and wasn’t home, so I had time to myself.

Not like she’d be much company even if she were there.

After what Ethel told me the day before, I was angry at Mom. When I thought of all of those years where I could’ve learned about magic and gotten to know my grandma, it left a sour taste in my mouth.

_“Empaths need time alone,”_ the book read. “ _Being around large groups of people can be draining. One great way to replenish your energy is to take a stroll through nature. Oceans and other large bodies of water can also be calming for the soul.”_

I guess that explained why I liked being outside.

“Hello? You back here, doofus?”

I flipped around to see Heejin walking around the side of the house. She was in an oversized hoodie, leggings, and had her dark hair thrown on top of her head in a messy bun. I closed my book and sat up, happy to see her.

“How was your date?” I asked once she sat beside me on the blanket.

“A dry sponge has more personality than him.” She groaned and lay back, throwing her arms over her eyes. “I’m never dating again.”

“Don’t say that.” I bumped her leg with mine. “I’m sure the right guy will come along eventually. One who doesn’t bore you to tears.”

“What’s this?” She grabbed my book and flipped it open. “Still on about that psychic mumbo jumbo?” After scanning the first few paragraphs, she looked at me. “An empath? Where did you get this book anyway?”

I loved Heejin like she was my sister. Actually, more than that. Our connection was strong and, like she’d said before too, I’d be lost without her. However, when it came to supernatural things, she was a hardcore skeptic. She’d seen a ghost with her own two eyes and was still trying to say it’d all been a trick of the mind.

“From Mrs. Glass,” I answered, preparing myself for the scolding.

Surprisingly, it didn’t come.

“So she’s actually cool? Not creepy or pissed that you’ve been stalking her?” Heejin closed the book and propped her arm up, resting her head on her hand.

I told her about my visits with Ethel, leaving out the part about me being a warlock, though. I didn’t want to overload Heejin with too much crazy at once. But I mentioned Ethel saying I was an empath and that’s the reason I’d been feeling strange and seeing so many ghosts.

“Wait.” Heejin furrowed her brow. “I thought you’d only seen one other ghost. The little boy. There’ve been others? Where?”

_In your room._

“Um.” I scratched the back of my head.

“Hwang Hyunjin, you tell me right now.”

“Well, there was one at school,” I said, peering over at her. “I saw her at lunch.”

Understanding flashed in Heejin’s eyes. “Oh! Was it when you got all weird and asked me if I saw her?”

I nodded.

“Okay, what did she look like? I didn’t see anything.”

“Are you sure you want to know? I thought you were set on believing ghosts aren’t real.”

“Shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes. “They’re real, okay? I just went through a stage of denial. Now tell me.”

I sighed before telling her what I’d seen: the girl walking out from the woods across the street and right into the road, the blood all over her, and then the semi going through her.

“That’s scary,” she said, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her knees. “Any others?”

“Heej…” I grabbed her hand. “I need to tell you something and you’re _really_ going to hate it. I should’ve told you like forever ago, but I chickened out. Then too much time passed and it would’ve been awkward to bring it up again.”

“Good god, Jinnie, just spill it.”

“There’s a ghost in your bedroom,” I blurted out.

The color left her face and her mouth popped open. “What? And you’re just _now_ telling me?”

“I’m sorry.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You were already scared about the one from the graveyard, and I didn’t want to make it worse. It seemed like I was the only one who could see him, so I didn’t see a point in telling you.”

At first, it looked like she was going to punch me. Her hand even balled into a fist. But then the fight left her and she slumped forward. “I know I’ll regret this, but… what did he look like?”

“I think he shot himself,” I told her. “In the head.”

“Well one thing is certain,” she said. “I’m staying at your house tonight.”


	8. chapter seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all might like this chapter js ;)))) hahaha but i hope u enjoy this update!

“Freak!” Changbin shoved me as I walked outside.

I stumbled forward and my books flew from my hands, skidding across the sidewalk. We were still on school grounds, but the teachers normally turned a blind eye. My chin scraped the cement and I bit down on my tongue.

_Crap._ I tasted blood.

He stepped over me, sure to kick my side as he did, and walked by with his friends trailing behind him. They laughed and shot me amused looks over their shoulders.

As for me? I stayed on the ground for a few seconds. My body hurt, but so did my pride.

I let him walk all over me—literally—and I never fought back. I was a pushover. No wonder he saw me as easy prey. Eventually, I pulled myself together and gathered my fallen books before continuing on my way home.

I wasn’t actually going home, though. I was supposed to go back over to Ethel’s house that afternoon.

A week had passed and she’d already taught me so much. We hadn’t done magic or anything like that, but she’d told me a little about our history as witches and warlocks and told me stories about her and Grandma Hwang.

From what she’d said, they’d been some badass witches in their day. They hadn’t met until their teen years, but once they had, they’d been inseparable. Then my grandma had met my grandpa—who died before I was born—and she decided to settle down with him. Start a family. They’d still kept in touch, and when my dad was born, Ethel was made his godmother.

However, when Mom decided to cut ties with my grandma, it unfortunately cut ties with Ethel too.

I liked hearing the stories about my grandma. It made me feel closer to her.

October first was colder than the average, with highs only in the upper forties. The sun was still shining, so there were small bouts of warmth to break up the cold. I had a feeling that winter was going to be extremely cold that year.

_Bring it on._

As eager as I was to get to Ethel’s, I took my time walking from school. I loved my hometown. It was one of those sleepy towns where not much happened. Not technically a small town, but it was quaint and not overly populated. The only time it really bustled with activity was during tourist season—which would be soon.

I chose to walk through the historic district, and as I turned onto Sycamore Street, I began feeling strange. My heart beat a bit faster and my palms got sweaty.

Stopping on the sidewalk, I looked up at the Victorian house in front of me.

It was built in the early 1900s and was said to be haunted. In fact, there was even a ghost tour every year all during the month of October, where you explored the house as the tour guide told stories; the haunted history of the house and surrounding land and accounts from people who’d experienced spooky things.

When Heejin and I used to ghost hunt—a time that felt so long ago, when it’d really only been weeks—we’d gone there before, and I hadn’t felt a thing.

We’d snuck into the backyard and sat on the porch, drinking coffee, and laughed at the absurdity of it all. We’d even peeked through the windows, trying to get a glimpse of anything moving from inside, and nothing.

That wasn’t the case anymore.

Perhaps it was due to my heightened sensitivity to the spirit world, but as I looked at the house right then, I sensed something watching me. There was no one else on the street, and I turned to see if there was someone close by, watching me from the yard.

I was alone.

A shape moved in the upstairs window, and as I gazed back at it, I saw a woman with long black hair looking down at me. Her eyes were white, her face rotted, and she had a sinister smile in place.

I yelped and jerked backward, catching the side of my foot on the curb and tripping before landing in the street. The back of my head hit the asphalt, and the breath was knocked from my lungs. Pain radiated through my head, and I tried to suck in a breath, only managing sharp wheezes.

A car honked and right as I looked up, I saw the front bumper coming toward my face. Brakes squealed and the car stopped an inch or so from me.

“What the hell are you doing, kid?” the man screamed, sticking his head out the window and flipping me off. “You’re gonna cause an accident. Get off of the road!”

Not even checking to see if I was okay, he backed up and drove around me before speeding off.

Forget about it beating fast; my heart had freaking stopped.

Before I found myself as Hyunjin roadkill, I got to my feet and limped back to the sidewalk. I didn’t want to see the woman again, but I looked at the upstairs window anyway.

She was gone.

No longer wanting to take the scenic route, I fast-walked away from the house and got back on the road that’d lead me to my neighborhood. The ghost had seemed so evil. That menacing smile would haunt me at night. I was sure of it.

Other ghosts I’d seen had been kind of creepy—you know, with their heads blown open and blood all over them—but they’d never seemed mean. Their skin hadn’t been rotted, and other than their wounds and flickering body, they’d seemed human enough. When they saw me, they were curious and then remorseful or sad. I’d never felt like one actually wanted to hurt me.

But that woman in the window? I’d felt her rage. The desire to cause pain.

When I got to Ethel’s, I recounted what happened; the ghost and then almost getting run over.

“Are you okay?” she asked, holding my face with both hands and searching my eyes. We were in the kitchen, where she had pot roast cooking. “Your lip is bleeding too.”

“That’s from a bully,” I said, going to wipe the blood on my hoodie sleeve, but she caught my wrist before I did and instead dabbed a wet cloth to it. “I’m okay. The car stopped before hitting me.”

She placed her hands on both sides of my head and closed her eyes. A moment of silence passed, then another, before her eyes opened again. “You don’t have a concussion, so that’s a relief. I’ll get you some medicine for your head.”

After I took some Tylenol, I drank the whole glass of water—mainly because she insisted I do.

“This spirit… you felt her anger?” Ethel asked, dabbing the cloth once more to my bloody lip before scooting back and going over to the sink.

“Yeah.”

“Usually spirits mean no harm, but there are some who do. They tend to be people who were wicked in life as well. There’s a lot of history in that house, and none of it good. My suggestion is to avoid Sycamore Street, at least for a while.”

“Why?”

Admittedly, I was terrified of the ghost, but the way Ethel had said that caused goosebumps to spread on my arms and legs.

“October is not only a month for scares, costumes, and candy, Hyunjin. Spirits are more powerful this month, but on All Hallows’ Eve, they can walk the Earth again. They can leave whichever graveyard or house they’re stuck at and walk amongst mortals once more.”

“Stuck at?”

“Spirits are often confined to one area,” she explained. “Sometimes it’s where their body is buried and other times it’s where they died. But on Halloween night, they are free to leave those confines until dawn. For that one night, it’s almost as if they’re human again; able to touch and be touched. If the spirit you saw wishes to harm you, it’s best to steer clear of her.”

There was so much I didn’t know. Of course, I knew Halloween wasn’t just about candy—I’d watched a documentary about it on the History Channel—but I hadn’t known ghosts were more powerful that night.

_And now I’m a ghost magnet._ I shuddered at the thought.

They’d all be coming for me.

“You can stay here that night,” Ethel said with her back to me. She was checking the pot roast, and as she lifted the lid on the crockpot, an aroma of cooking meat and spices wafted upward. My mouth watered. “No harm will come to you.”

Even though she’d done it several times, it still took me aback when she read my mind.

“They can’t come here?”

“I’ll put charms in place,” she said. “If you don’t feel comfortable staying the night, however, I will send the charms with you and you can keep them in your house.”

Nothing more awesome than staying Halloween night in an old manor.

“Chan is visiting today.” Her casual tone didn’t fool me. I knew she was smiling, even though her back was turned. “He is eager to speak with you again.”

“Really?” I asked, maybe a little too excited. _And desperate. Ugh. I’m pathetic._ I then said in a much more indifferent tone, “I mean, cool. Awesome.”

Ethel shot me a look, her brow arched. “I’m sure it’ll be _awesome_ indeed.”

The promise of food distracted me enough so that I wasn’t obsessively anticipating Chan’s arrival. We sat at the kitchen table, and Ethel filled my plate before filling hers. I bounced in my seat as I looked at the meat and vegetables, my mouth salivating at the thought of eating it. I’d never had pot roast that was so freaking tender and juicy. I savored each bite, fighting the urge to moan.

“Does your mother know you’ve been visiting me?” Ethel asked once we’d eaten for a few minutes.

“No,” I said. “She doesn’t seem to care what I do with my time, anyway, and hasn’t asked. So it’s not like I’ve been lying to her.”

“What does she say about that bully?”

I paused in my chewing as I considered her question. “Well. She doesn’t say much. The last time I brought it up, she sorta shrugged and said _boys will be boys_.”

“How repugnant,” Ethel scoffed.

“Yeah.” I dropped my gaze to my food, feeling less hungry than before. “Dad was always the one I talked to about those things.”

“I was truly sad to hear of his passing.” Ethel’s tone mirrored the sadness I felt coming from her. I glanced up at her, shocked I could sense her emotions, since she usually hid them from me. “He was a wonderful man with the most gentle of souls.”

“He was,” I agreed, reaching for the chain around my neck. I held the dog tag between my fingers, feeling warmth trickle through me, before letting it go. “This roast is out of this world amazing, Ethel.”

“Thank you, dear boy. Just like how each witch or warlock possesses different powers, we can also have a specific skillset. For example, a warlock I knew once upon a time loved to make model airplanes. It replenished his soul and brought him peace. Each model he made, he made with love, and he had such a beautiful vision. Some of his designs can be seen today. Mine is with food. It’s why every time you come to visit; I am either baking or cooking.”

“Did you bewitch the pot roast?” I asked, looking at it.

She laughed.

After dinner, I helped her clean up. She didn’t have a dishwasher—and it didn’t surprise me really—so she washed the dishes, and I dried them before putting them back into their proper place in the cabinet. It was nice. I’d never gotten the chance to do that stuff with my grandma, so in a way, I was getting a second chance with Ethel.

“I have a customer arriving soon,” Ethel said as I dried the last dish.

“I’ll stay out of your hair,” I said and then grinned. “Unless you want me to help? I can wear one of those silk hats and speak gibberish into a crystal ball.”

A creak in the hallway beside the kitchen made me sharply turn, and once I did, I couldn’t look away.

Chan stood there, one arm behind his back and the other at his side. His short white-blond curls were messy, and his clothing was interesting to say the least. He wore a high-collared white shirt, a dark gray vest, and matching dark gray pants that were cuffed and creased in the front. Honestly, he looked like the guys in those black and white movies, totally suave and handsome, and dressed for a special occasion.

Was the special occasion me?

_Don’t be an idiot. He doesn’t even know you._ _And even if he did, there’s no way he’d ever want you in that way._

Ethel was old-fashioned; it only made sense for her grandson to be too, especially if they were close. So while his manner of dress was a bit antiquated, he pulled it off stunningly. Maybe the way he’d been dressed last year when I’d first met him hadn’t been a costume.

“Hi,” I squeaked before clearing my throat and saying it again, but not as pitiful. “Hi.”

“Hello.” A small smile touched his lips, and he cocked his head in that same adorable way he had before. “Do you always give so many greetings? I find this peculiar.”

_Peculiar? Who was this guy?_

And was he single?

Ethel laughed from behind me before slapping a hand over her mouth. Knowing she’d read my mind, I narrowed my eyes at her.

“You boys go on now,” she said, flicking her hand at us in that _shoo_ motion. “I’ll put on some tea. Chan, dear, perhaps you can show Hyunjin the veranda out back.”

“My pleasure,” Chan said, moving his sky blue eyes to me.

_Oh, no. The pleasure is all mine._

He turned and left the kitchen. My feet wouldn’t move at first, as if I was still stunned stupid to have been in his presence. For the past year, I’d convinced myself I’d dreamed him. That Halloween night had been in my imagination.

_And here he is now. Real._

“Better get moving, boy,” Ethel said with an amused tone.

Didn’t have to tell me twice. I took off jogging and flung around the corner into the hallway. Chan was waiting for me, still with one hand behind his back. Like a gentlemen.

_Yes!_ That’s the word. He reminded me of those proper gentlemen who escorted beautiful ladies to fancy parties and promised their fathers to have them home by ten.

When I caught up to him, we walked at an unhurried pace. Trying not to be so obvious about it, I peeked over at him. I stood a few inches taller with my five foot nine height. Like before, he smelled like rain and something sweet.

It was a little intoxicating and slightly addicting.

Chills erupted on my skin as we moved side by side, and I knew it had nothing to do with the slight chill in the air. No, they were chills of excitement.

I’d had a crush on Lee Minho for the past year, but within that time, I’d never felt even half as giddy as I did right then with Chan. And I barely knew the guy.

Once out of the hall, we moved into the parlor. A large fireplace was centered on the far wall, shelves lined both sides of it, and the room was filled with plushy armchairs, couches, end tables, and even a piano in the corner.

“This is a room meant to entertain guests,” Chan said, stopping in the middle of the room and looking around. “The host would stand there,” he pointed near the fireplace, “cigar in one hand and a glass of brandy in the other, and he’d wear a fine suit to let everyone present know his wealth. His status.”

_Wow._ I loved hearing him talk. He had a slight accent; it was Australian. His cadence was refreshingly unique.

As he told me more, I listened and could almost hear the piano playing, smell the cigar smoke, and hear the mumbled words and occasional laughs from people long since gone from this world.

“I never liked this room,” he then said.

Hearing his change of tone, I looked at him. His eyes were fixated on the fireplace and his expression was cold. Just as quickly as it’d appeared, the coldness left him, and his blue eyes focused back on me, now warm and inviting.

“Are you ready to go outside? It’s one of my favorite places.”

“Lead the way,” I said, offering a smile, even though heaviness crushed down on my chest.

No amount of smiling could cover the fact that Chan was hurting. I just didn’t know why.

-

I understood why the veranda was one of Chan’s favorite places.

Not only was it surrounded by the most beautiful garden I’d ever seen, but it was also quiet. Peaceful. A small fountain was in the center of it all, and even though the water wasn’t running, it was still lovely.

In the middle of the fountain was a cherub, and the water was supposed to come from the pitcher it held. Time hadn’t been overly kind to the structure, as it was crumbling in places, but it had character to it.

We sat on a bench, looking out over the garden and talking. Well, I did most of the talking, and Chan sat like a champ and put up with my incessant babbling. As I talked about how cool it’d be to be able to fast travel—like thinking of a place you wanted to go and then _poof_ you’re there—he gave me a curious, lopsided grin.

The whole time, he kept his distance from me, leaving a good-sized space between us on the bench. Very unlike how he’d been Halloween night last year. Trying to be discreet, I tilted my head down and quickly sniffed myself to see if I stunk. I didn’t.

“You have such detailed imagery to your stories,” he said. “I like the way you see the world.”

_And I like the way you talk, stud._

“Eh, I’ve always had a vivid imagination,” I said like it was no big deal, although the compliment flattered me. “It helps with my art, but my mom said imagination doesn’t pay the bills. She told me I’d probably end up homeless and having to whore myself for money if I followed my passion and became an artist.”

Chan’s brows shot upward. “Pardon?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Never mind. So what about you? What are your interests? I’ve kind of told you all there is to know about me, from art, to all the books I love, and about Heejin.”

“Not quite,” he said. “I wish to know more about you.”

Chan was very soft-spoken. He seemed to whirl the words around in his head before speaking them, and then a modest smile would turn his lips.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” he said and then quickly averted his eyes, as if shy. “Concerning your art, what is it you enjoy drawing most?”

“Mostly buildings or people. Sometimes monsters,” I answered, shivering a little at the breeze. The sun had set and the moon was bright above us, shining on the garden and reflecting off the small amount of water in the fountain, left over from the rain. When I exhaled, I saw my breath puff into the air. “Sometimes images get stuck in my mind and drawing them helps me let go.”

“I would very much like to see your work someday,” Chan said, still with that shyness in place. It was endearing.

“What about you?” I asked, shoving the focus away from me. I wanted to know everything about him too. “Do you have any hidden talents or hobbies?”

His brow furrowed as he thought. “I enjoy playing the piano, but I would not quite call it a talent. More of a nuisance, if you were to ask my father.”

“Sounds to me like you’re too hard on yourself. I’m sure you’re great.” I smiled at him, and despite the cold in the air, I felt warmth in my chest.

His blue eyes held my gaze before he looked at the fountain. “Your friend, Heejin, are you courting her?”

_Courting?_ I had a feeling this guy had lived a very sheltered life. He was stuck in the past. But it wasn’t really a bad thing. Not to me, anyway.

“Um, no,” I said, shuddering at the thought. “Heejin is just my friend. Well, she’s more like my best friend who is my partner in crime, but nothing romantic at all is going on there.”

“May I ask why? She sounds like a lovely girl.”

_Crap._ There it was. I hated that I had to sit there and contemplate my answer, instead of just being like, _because I’m gay._

“She’s not my type,” I answered, looking down at my reddening hands. It was chilly outside, and the sun setting had made it even more so. We’d been out there for an hour, and I was beginning to feel a bit miserable in my thin hoodie.

“You’re cold,” Chan said before standing. He moved so fluidly that it took me off guard.

“And you’re not?” I asked. He was only in a long-sleeved shirt, and the sleeves were pushed up to his elbows. There were no goosebumps on his arms, and he remained pale. Unlike me, whose cheeks were probably bright red.

“Let’s return to the parlor for tea,” he suggested and waited for me to stand.

As we walked through the garden and up the steps to the veranda, I realized I had it bad for him.

He hadn’t told me much about himself during our chat, other than he loved playing the piano and he had a weakness for shortbread cookies—my kind of man. He’d talked about Ethel a lot, about how kind she was, and then we’d discussed magic. He was curious about my empath abilities, and I told him I was still getting used to them and had a lot more to learn.

The sad reality of it, though, was nothing would ever come of my crush.

That’s what sucked about being _different._ When a guy had a crush on a girl, he could say witty things and charm her before asking her on a date, and vice versa. If she liked him, she could ask him out too. Rejection was still possible, but more times than not, it was a mutual attraction.

However, me liking Chan was like pining after something I couldn’t have. Sure, there was a possibility he’d return my feelings, but the rejection rate was high. Too high for my liking. I didn’t even know how to approach that subject.

Once back inside the warmth of the house—with the exception of a draft that was coming from somewhere, because the place _was_ freaking old—I no longer felt like an Hyun-cicle.

Chan was silent as he moved at my side through the hall and back into the parlor. In the times I’d visited, Ethel never lingered in the big parlor and instead preferred the smaller sitting room, so we headed that way.

“May I be so bold to ask you a question?” Chan stopped in the hall outside the sitting room.

“Sure.” And for some reason, my stomach flipped.

“You said Heejin wasn’t your type,” he spoke.

I felt a wave of uncertainty come off him. _Oh no…he was going to ask me, and I had no idea how to answer._

“What _is_ your type?”

_Crap._

Fortune must’ve been in my favor because Ethel called from the sitting room, “Boys? Come in. Your tea is getting cold.”

Her appointment must’ve ended already.

Chan searched my face with such intensity that I forgot how to breathe. He stepped closer, closer than he’d been all night, and he lifted his hand. He didn’t touch me, but he ghosted his fingers along my cheek before stepping away. “Excuse me.”

And then he turned and walked down the hall.

“Don’t mind him,” Ethel said once I’d entered the room. “He doesn’t mean to be rude. Like you, he just needs time alone sometimes.”

“Is he an empath too?” I asked, taking a seat and grabbing the cup of tea, warming my hands. _God I hoped not._ If he was, he would’ve felt the butterflies in my stomach every time he looked at me. And he would’ve felt… other things too.

I blushed.

“No,” she answered, dropping a sugar cube into her cup. “But he carries weight on his shoulders that no boy should have to hold. It wears him down and he needs distance.”

The way he’d looked at me before walking away was ingrained in my memory. As if I were a puzzle he was trying to solve. Other than confusion and a slight irritation, I’d also felt the burning embers of desire.

No one had ever gotten my blood pumping so fast, and as I sat there, trying to warm myself by the fire and sipping hot tea, it occurred to me that not all of the desire had been mine.


	9. chapter eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is kinda a filler chapter..... but kinda sad so :(((((

**T** he details were all wrong.

Puffing out a frustrated breath, I erased the sorry attempt at Chan’s face and started over.

He’d been on my mind a lot lately. About a week had passed, and I’d gone over there every afternoon since. Each time I visited, he’d stuck around for an hour, sometimes longer, before leaving again. Ethel said that’s just how he was, but I got the impression there was more to it.

Call it a gut feeling, my empathic power, or whatever, but something seemed off. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

That week, Ethel had begun teaching me about magic and telling me more of our history as witches and warlocks. She explained how spells worked and how some of them required certain items, like specific herbs. Some of the more powerful spells required more than that, though. Like blood, hair, and creepy things like that.

“Spells are mainly used for summoning, healing, and for those without the gift of sight, they use spells to get a glimpse into the future. Some of us don’t need spells for our magic, though,” she’d explained that afternoon before I’d come home. “It’s rare, but I’ve heard of one warlock who could make things happen without chants and without potions. He willed it to happen, and it did.”

_How cool,_ I’d thought.

“So if I was _really_ hungry and wanted a cheeseburger…” I’d said, scratching my chin.

Ethel had smacked my arm. “Poor example, but yes.”

When I visited her, I wasn’t as awkward anymore. I’d grown comfortable around her and looked forward to our visits, and maybe it was just wishful thinking, but I thought maybe she enjoyed my visits too. I didn’t want to be a burden to her, and I hoped she didn’t consider me one.

I bent over my sketchpad again, lightly penciling in the shape of Chan’s eyes. His almond-shaped eyes had that bedroom look to them, you know, the one that made you all weak in the knees and want to fall into bed. I blushed at the thought and shook my head.

What was wrong with me?

There was a knock at my door.

“Come in.”

Mom opened the door and stepped into the room. She scrunched her face up in disgust as she surveyed the disaster area—aka my bedroom.

“Do you ever clean this dump, Hyunjin?” she asked, shooting that look of disgust my way. “And you need a haircut. Your hair is hanging too much in your face.”

“Wow, thanks, Mom,” I said, dryly. She hadn’t so much as said hi to me in days and then she barges in and gives me insult after insult. “Is there something you needed?”

“Do I need a reason to come see how you’re doing?”

She walked closer, leaving the door open, and sat on the edge of my bed. I wanted to spout off _yeah, because you never seem to want anything to do with me_ , but I kept it to myself.

“What’s this?”

Before I could stop her, she grabbed the book Ethel had given to me that day. After I’d read the one about empaths, she’d given me one about magic. It wasn’t filled with spells or anything, and was more like a history of magic and the different types of magic; like healing and protection. There was a chapter on charms, too, that I’d found interesting.

Mom flipped it open and then her eyes flashed to mine. “No. You will not be reading this in my house.” She slammed the book shut.

“It’s just a book,” I said, cringing at how roughly she handled it. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“No, I _know_ what it means, Hwang Hyunjin, and I forbid it.”

“Just like you forbade me to see Grandma?” I was mad now. It was probably the weeks of being given the cold-shoulder from her, mixed in with learning how much she’d actually taken from me by keeping me from my grandma. “She wasn’t sick in the head like you told me. You just couldn’t handle that she was a witch.”

Mom paled before looking so angry I thought smoke was going to shoot from her ears.

“Who told you?” she asked, getting off the bed and nearing me. Then, she stopped. “You’ve been visiting _her_ , haven’t you? The crazy old coot at the end of the street!”

I squared my jaw and said nothing.

“You’re grounded,” she said. “No going over to Heejin’s house, no visiting _that_ woman, nothing. You go to school and you come home. And you get rid of these demon books. Do I make myself clear?”

“Since when do you give a crap, Mom?” I asked, standing and towering over her. “You don’t even want me here.”

“That’s not true,” she denied.

“Yes, it is! Even now, you’re resenting me and wishing I was old enough to live on my own.” I hadn’t meant to yell, but it was coming out that way regardless.

Mom jerked backward, as if slapped by my words. She was about to deny it, again, but I held up a hand.

“Don’t, Mom. Wanna know how I know that? The same reason you cast Grandma out of the family. I’m like her. I can sense your feelings of disgust.”

“No.” Mom sharply shook her head, causing her ponytail to swing back and forth. “You can’t be like her. I made sure you weren’t around it, so her disease wouldn’t spread.”

“Well, the jokes on you, Mom, because it’s not a choice. It’s in my blood. I can’t ignore it.”

It struck me that I could be coming out to her right now. Being gay wasn’t a choice either. I was born this way, and it wasn’t something to hide or be ashamed of.

“As long as you live under my roof, you will not have anything to do with that wickedness.” She crossed her arms.

“Fine.” I didn’t have to stay there with her. I knew Heejin’s mom would be more than happy to let me stay with them. “I won’t be under your roof.”

“Where will you go?”

It hurt to see the relief in her eyes. She really didn’t want me there.

“Someplace where I’m wanted,” I answered, trying to ignore the knotting in my gut. “Since we’re already arguing, I guess I should also tell you that I’m gay.”

“What?”

“I’m gay,” I repeated.

Mom’s nostrils flared a little, and she pursed her lips. “So you’re not only a devil worshiper, but you’re gay too?”

“It’s not devil worshipping,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“If your father was here, he would be so disappointed in you,” she said with such revulsion that a pain went through my chest.

What made her words hurt even more? She meant them. Anger and repulsion rolled off her. Not love or even sadness for her treating me so harshly. She was disgusted with me, all for things I couldn’t control.

“You’re wrong,” I said as my eyes stung. “Dad understood me and told me to always be myself. He’d be proud of the man I’ve become.”

I grabbed the dog tag around my neck, knowing I was right. No matter how much Mom wanted to hurt me, she was wrong.

“Get out of my house,” she said.

It was almost ten o’clock that Friday night, but she didn’t seem to care. Her desire to be rid of me outweighed any concern of where I’d go.

“Gladly.”

Mom left my room, and I rushed over to my closet to grab the camouflage gym bag in the back. It used to be Dad’s, and as I got it out and put it on the bed to start filling it, the tears I’d kept at bay finally fell.

“I wish you were here, Dad.”

Instead of casting me out, he would’ve talked to me. Supported me. Losing him had been losing my best friend. I talked to Heejin about a lot, but with Dad, I’d told him everything. When I needed advice or if I was scared, he’d been the one I went to. A little over a year had passed since he’d been gone, but it still hurt as if it’d been yesterday.

I shoved clothes, the books from Ethel, my sketchpad, and my phone charger into the bag, but before zipping it, I saw the picture on my desk of Dad and me and grabbed it too.

Mom was sitting in the living room when I came down the stairs, and she refused to look at me. As I placed my hand on the door handle, the hairs on my nape stood on end and I turned.

At the top of the stairs was the little boy. He stood there, soaking wet and with his dark hair in his face. His body flickered and he outstretched his hand. His lips moved, but I heard nothing. Then, he disappeared.

Strange that leaving him was the saddest part of being kicked out of my house. Like I was letting him down in some way.

Once outside, I slammed the door behind me and got on the sidewalk. The night was cold—bitingly so—and I shoved my hands into my hoodie pocket. The bag was heavy and was already making my shoulder ache. It would’ve helped if I hadn’t packed up my whole room, but I had a feeling I’d be living out of my bag for a while and had wanted to grab as much as I could fit.

Panic set in. What if Heejin’s mom didn’t want me there? The thought was my anxiety talking, though. I was sure of it. After clicking on Heejin’s contact picture in my phone, I held it to my ear. She should still be awake. I hoped.

“Hey, Jinnie. What’s up?”

“Can I come over?” I asked, hearing how strained my voice was. “Um. Mom kicked me out.”

“Oh my god. Why?”

“I came out to her,” I responded, giving her a half truth. Heejin still didn’t know I had magic in my blood. “She didn’t take it well.”

“Hang on.” Rustling sounded on her end of the phone and seconds later, I heard her calling out for her mom.

Muffled voices came from their side, and then I heard, “Hyunjin, honey. You come here right now, okay?”

I smiled and more tears pooled in my eyes. “Thank you so much.”

-

Heejin’s mom slammed the coffee lid down, pressed the _on_ button, and flipped around to face me. She was pissed. It was almost eleven p.m. now, and probably too late for caffeine, but coffee made everything better. Well, actually alcohol probably did, but I was too young to drink. So coffee would suffice. It was also Friday night, so we didn’t have to be up early for school the next day.

“Any mother who tosses out her child should be ashamed of herself,” she said, walking over and putting her arms around me. “You’re wanted and you’re loved, Jinnie. You can stay here as long as you need to. Okay?”

I nodded and returned her hug. “Thank you.”

Heejin had told her the reason Mom kicked me out, and it was kind of funny that her mom hadn’t seemed shocked. She hadn’t been certain I was gay, but she admitted to having suspicions. My own mother had been clueless.

The coffee machine beeped, signaling it was done, and the three of us filled our cups before adding pumpkin spice creamer—which wasn’t as great as the real thing from Starbucks, but still pretty freaking good.

“I’m going to watch my show,” Heejin’s mom said and went toward the living room. “Do y’all want to watch with me?”

Her favorite show was _Supernatural_ , and both Heejin and I said _yes_ at the same time, because… well, _Jensen Ackles_. Heejin was more of a Jared fan, though. We sat on the big, comfy couch and curled up with our coffees. Heejin’s mom started season three—because she was re-watching the series all over again to prepare for the new episodes—and it was a nice distraction from reality.

We watched two episodes before Heejin started snoring. I pounced on her, making her scream and throw her arm out to punch me. Her mom laughed and told us it was time for bed.

Even though I’d slept over there a million and five times, Heejin’s mom still showed me to the guest room. I normally slept on the couch in Heejin’s room, but she wanted me to have my own bed. To make me feel more at home.

“If there’s anything you need, you know where to find me.” She hugged me goodnight and went to her room.

Heejin, who was now wide awake thanks to me scaring the crap out of her, plopped down on the made bed, wrinkling the once perfect comforter. “You going to be okay in here by yourself?”

“Yeah, I think so.” I placed the picture of me and Dad on the nightstand before digging around in the bag for some nightclothes.

“I saw you-know-who the other night,” Heejin said, resting her elbows on her knees as she sat crisscross on the mattress.

“Who? _Voldemort_?”

She snorted. “Ha, ha, jerk. Very funny.” A serious expression crossed her face. “Something strange kinda happened, though. Ever since you told me about him, I’ve been keeping a look out for him, mostly out of fear, because you know how much I _love_ ghosts. But the first time I actually saw him? I don’t know. I wasn’t that scared. I didn’t get a good look at him, but the way he stood by my window seemed so freaking sad, Jinnie.”

I knew the feeling. Out of all the ghosts I’d met, the one in her room seemed the most miserable.

“I’m glad you weren’t scared,” I said, sitting beside her. “They don’t mean to scare us. I think most are lonely and the others are just lost.”

“Does Mrs. Glass know a lot about ghosts?”

“Yeah,” I answered before reaching into my bag and retrieving the book Ethel had given me. “And not just about ghosts, but she knows about magic too.”

I peeked at her from my peripheral.

“Magic.” She seemed to mull the word around in her head. “So she _is_ a witch?”

Not sure if I was allowed to say or not, so I shrugged. In a way, it was kind of like being outed without your permission, and I didn’t want to do that to anyone.

“Her grandson is freaking amazing, Heej,” I said, leaning against the pillows and putting my hands behind my head. “Not only is he hot, but he’s intelligent and kind. Soft-spoken, but he has that _thing,_ you know? Like he walks into a room and his presence is so powerful.”

“Ah, Jinnie Bear,” she said, cuddling up beside me and laying her head on my chest. “It sounds like you’re in love.”

“Pfft, I’ve only known him like a week,” I said, but there was no denying the way my heart skipped a beat.

And since her head was right over said heart, she heard it.

“Actually,” she said. “You’ve known him a year.”

“Okay, I _really_ like him,” I admitted with a laugh. “But he’s so mysterious. Like, he tells me a little about himself, but he mostly just wants me to blab about my life.”

“Is he homeschooled?” she asked. “Or does he go to a different school?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “He seems sheltered and kind of old school, like a sexy piece of vintage hotness.”

“I have to meet this guy.” Heejin sat back up and nudged me. “Do you think I could come with you sometime? Or would that be weird?”

“I’ll mention it to Ethel when I see her tomorrow,” I said with a smile. Then, it occurred to me that Heejin’s mom was more attentive than my mom and she might not like me going places, since I was pretty much living there for the time being. “Do you think your mom would mind that I go over there?”

“Nah, I doubt it. As long as she knows where you are and that you’re safe, she’s cool.” Heejin kissed me on the cheek before getting off the bed. “Goodnight, weirdo.”

“Night, psycho.”

She blew me a kiss before dramatically leaving the room.

I had the best friend ever.

Mentally exhausted from one heck of an emotional day, I fell asleep quickly. However, around four that morning, I awoke with a start.

Something was in the room with me.

I peered into the dark, trying to get my eyes to adjust. The blinds on the window were open, so the moon shone through, and eventually I could make out certain details in the room. Like the chair in the corner, the dresser against the wall, and the man standing at the foot of my bed.

_“Why did I do this?”_ he asked in a fragmented voice.

His body flickered like an old TV losing signal before solidifying again. He touched the side of his head and made a low wailing that sent shivers down my spine. Tears streamed down my face. Not because I was scared, but because I felt his pain. His grief. Oh my god, I was sobbing. He had so much pain inside him that it was overwhelming.

My powers must’ve been growing stronger. It’d never been so intense before.

_“Why?”_ he asked again.

“I want to help you,” I spoke through my tears. “But I don’t know how.”

His head snapped my way when I spoke, and he drew nearer. The way he moved was unsettling, not actually walking, but gliding. I wasn’t sure if he was the type of spirit who could actually communicate or if he was one that merely replayed their death over and over, like stuck in a loop of despair.

_“The gun is in the cabinet, locked away. But I have the key,”_ he said, and it echoed all around me, sounding a little like static. _“Why did I do this?”_

Suddenly, the door flew open and Heejin came running in. The man turned toward her, the gruesome side of his head facing me, before he vanished.

“Jinnie? You okay?” she asked, rushing over to the bed.

“He was here,” I said, no longer crying but still feeling shaken-up. “God, Heej. I have to find a way to help him. I…” I whimpered and threw an arm around her neck, burying my face against her shoulder. “I have to help him.”

“Shh, it’s okay.” She rubbed up and down my back. “Want me to sleep in here tonight?”

I nodded and scooted over, giving her room to slide into bed. My heart was racing, and it took me forever to get back to sleep. Icy eyes then appeared in my mind, and a calm washed over me at the thought of Chan.

The promise of seeing him the next day was the drive I needed to finally go to sleep, and in my dreams, he waited for me.


	10. chapter nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stream back door for more frequent updates lmaooooo aNyways sorry for the angst in advance hehe. hope u enjoy this chapter tho!

“Some of these aren’t finished,” I said, holding my sketchbook to my chest and looking at Chan. “Most are doodles and others are poor attempts.”

I’d learned more about him lately. He’d confessed that he lived there with Ethel, and had kept his distance during my first visits to the manor because he was shy. Once he found out I liked to draw, he’d mentioned that he wanted to see my drawings, and I’d finally mustered the courage to show him that Saturday.

Well, sort of. I was clinging onto my sketchbook for dear life.

“I’m certain even one of your doodles is better than anything I could ever draw.” Chan smiled and sat down.

Sighing, I sat in the armchair beside him. We were in the big library upstairs, and the sun shining through the panel of windows really brightened the place up. It was my favorite room in the manor, and the past few times I’d visited, I’d spent most of my time in there. Chan had as well.

Ethel was downstairs, cooking some kind of meat stew, and had given me permission to look at any books I wanted to. So far that morning, I’d flipped through a few on magic, and I’d found another on ghosts that I planned to read more later. I’d also found one about family familiars, and I’d read further into the raven. It was cool that the bird was my family’s symbol.

And I totally couldn’t think about it without also thinking of Edgar Allen Poe. _Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”_

“Okay.” I opened to the first page of the sketchbook. “This is one I drew of the graveyard.”

In it, I’d played around with shadowing and shading techniques. The full moon lit up some of the graves while others were cast into darkness. A boy sat in front of one of the tombstones, arms around his knees. I hadn’t drawn any facial details and had instead colored the boy like a shadow.

Chan leaned closer and studied the drawing with a scrunched brow. “You are much too hard on yourself, Hyunjin. This is wonderful.”

“Thanks.” My face heated, and I turned the page. “This is a sketch of the manor. It took me a while to get the right angles. I’ve never seen such an interesting place before. It’s both Queen Anne style, but medieval as well.”

“It was specially built,” Chan said, looking at me with big, blue eyes that made me temporarily forget what we were even talking about. “Henry Bang had it built for his wife, Clara, as a wedding gift. She favored the styles in London, and he wanted nothing more than to give her the world. Whatever her heart desired. He doted on her, you see, as if she was the most precious gem. It was an arranged marriage; however, they truly loved each other.”

The way he spoke of them, it was almost as if he’d known them. Out of the history I’d found on the manor, I’d never read any of that.

“Three years after moving into the manor, they had a son,” Chan continued.

“What was his name?”

“I cannot recall,” he answered, a bit too quickly, before saying, “May I see the rest?”

“Sure.”

I showed Chan each page in the sketchbook, becoming less nervous as I did. Other than Heejin, he was the only other person to see my drawings.

Showing them to people was like revealing a private part of myself. A lot of my drawings came from a place of intrigue, pain, or when I needed an escape. Letting people see them was like giving them a glimpse into my soul.

Of course, I forgot about the last drawing in the book, and when I flipped to the page with his rough portrait, I went rigid.

“Is that…” He leaned closer before lifting his gaze to mine. “Is that me?”

“Maybe,” I said.

Chan’s lips twitched. “Well, it’s very good.” He tilted his head at it. “You made me look handsome.”

“You _are_ handsome, Chan,” I blurted before I could stop myself. But it was the truth, and he needed to know it. His blue eyes moved to me, and the look in them made my heart flutter like hummingbird’s wings.

A bashful smile lit his face. “I find you handsome as well.”

_Wait… what?_

Ethel walked into the library, dressed in a cream blouse and a long, flowing green skirt. Gold bracelets jingled on her wrists, and her earrings sounded like little wind chimes. “Lunch is ready.”

Chan excused himself, and I watched him walk out of the room. He never ate with us.

A strange feeling landed in my gut, as it always seemed to do when around him.

I walked beside Ethel as we left the library and went down the stairs. The dome on the ceiling let in the sun, and as I stepped down, I looked upward, admiring the little rainbows bouncing off the walls from the glass. Before we reached the kitchen, I smelled the mouthwatering aroma of spiced meat.

“You’re going to make me fat, Ethel.”

“Impossible,” she said, arching a brow. “You’re nothing but skin and bones, boy. I would give my left foot to have a metabolism such as yours.”

“Why your left foot? That’s kinda specific.”

She laughed and shook her head.

Lunch was so good that I ate two large bowls and almost went for a third, but Ethel slapped my hand when I reached for the serving spoon. Good thing too, because five minutes later, once my food had settled, I was so full I couldn’t move.

“Did you and Chan have fun in the library?” she asked as she stood and started a pot of water for tea.

“Yeah. I showed him some of my sketches, and then he told me some of the manor’s history.”

Ethel stilled before relaxing her shoulders once again. “Oh? What did he say?”

Something odd bubbled in my stomach, and it had nothing to do with the food. I realized it was nerves. Not mine, but hers. The feeling was gone almost as soon as it’d appeared, but I’d picked up on it.

My empath abilities were certainly getting stronger, so much so that I’d begun feeling her emotions at times.

“He told me about the man who’d had it built,” I answered. “He seemed to know a lot about the couple. All except for their son’s name.”

A spoon dropped, and I jumped at the sound.

“How clumsy of me,” Ethel said, bending to pick up the spoon and toss it into the sink before grabbing a clean one from the drawer. She placed the cups, sugar, and teapot on a tray before bringing it over to the table. “There’s not much fascinating history about the manor, I’m afraid.”

For some reason, I didn’t believe her. But I kept that to myself.

“Would it be okay if my friend Heejin came with me one day to visit?” I asked, wanting to change the subject because one, I knew I was being lied to, and two, all it did was make me curious and want to go snooping. “She wants to meet you and Chan.”

“Does this Heejin know of your bloodline?” she asked, back to her calm and collected self, no longer jittery. “She can come with you; I only need to know whether to stay silent on certain matters.”

“Um.” I scratched the side of my head. “She knows about me being an empath, even if she doesn’t fully believe me, and she knows I see ghosts. She’s seen them too. But she doesn’t know about the warlock thing.”

“Do you wish for her to?”

“Eventually. Yeah,” I answered. “I just don’t know how to tell her. And it’s not like I’m _officially_ a warlock yet.”

“In time, you will be.” Ethel poured us each a cup of tea and slid mine toward me. “Now tell me more about this spirit you saw last night. You say you’ve never felt such intensity from him before?”

I nodded as dread coursed through me. “It was overwhelming. I literally curled into a ball and cried.”

_God, I hope Chan hadn’t heard that._

“I know it might not be what you want to hear, but your powers _are_ growing,” she said. “We need to begin your training.”

“I want to know how I can help them.” Remembering the grief coming from the man still made my chest hurt. “We talked about our purpose in life before, of why we were given our gifts. I think that, maybe, that’s mine. To help ghosts move on.”

Ethel smiled, and her expression was one of pride. “You have grown so much in our time together, Hyunjin. I know your grandma is proud of the man you’ve become, and so am I.”

“Do you think my dad is too?” I asked in a whisper.

Mom had said he’d be disappointed in me and a very small part of me worried she was right. Would he be disappointed I was a warlock? That I was gay?

“Oh, darling boy.” Ethel reached and grabbed my hand. “The day you were born was the happiest day of your father’s life. I was visiting Jiwoo that day, and he called her, gushing about you. When we went to the hospital, the joy on his face as he held you in his arms was the kind of love a parent _should_ give their child. He loved you unconditionally.”

My eyes watered, and I blinked to clear them.

“Let go of the shame, of the worry,” Ethel continued, still holding my hand. “The secret you’ve carried for so long has done nothing but weigh you down and smother you. It’s time to let it go, Hyunjin.”

“So you know?” I asked as a tear escaped my eye. I quickly wiped it away.

“Yes, I do.” She pulled her hand away and grabbed her tea. “Did you know the most powerful warlock in our history was gay?”

I shook my head, stunned.

“It’s true,” she said. “His name was Alistair, and his lover was named Zander. Alistair had the ability to control all four elements; earth, air, fire, and water. Now, most witches and warlocks are fortunate to control even one element. I can manipulate the wind, as you’ve seen. Controlling two is rare, but has been done. But all four? Alistair is the only warlock to ever possess such a gift.”

“In our world,” I said and stopped because my throat tightened. I swallowed the lump and continued, “In our world, is being gay… looked down upon? Did Alistair and Zander live a happy life together, or did they have to hide their love?”

“Oh, they were happy,” Ethel answered with a warm smile. “They lived centuries ago, so as you know, society was not as accepting of such a thing back then, but among the magical community? They didn’t have to hide.” She then narrowed her eyes, but her expression was playful. “So you listen here, boy. Do not give power to the wicked words from your mother. You are just as you were meant to be: beautiful, one of a kind, and perfect.”

I hadn’t told her about what happened with my mom, so she must’ve read my mind.

Within seconds, I was out of my chair and hugging her. She smelled like cinnamon, and it made me hungry again. “Thank you.”

I hadn’t known how much I needed to hear those words until she’d said them.

She wrapped her arms around me. “No need to thank me, darling boy. I only speak the truth.”

Sitting back in my chair, I rubbed at my eyes. I had a leaky faucet or something, because the freaking tears wouldn’t stop.

“If you ever need a home, you have one here,” Ethel said. “I know Heejin’s mother is letting you stay there, but I want you to know, you can come here too, if you ever need a place to go. Although we aren’t blood, you’re my family.”

“Stop, I’m going to die of water loss,” I said as more tears welled in my eyes. I pressed my palms against them and groaned.

I didn’t believe in that toxic masculinity crap that said boys couldn’t cry, but that didn’t mean I _liked_ crying in front of people.

“Have a piece of pie,” Ethel said.

I lowered my hands to see her stand and go over to the oven. She’d sat the pie aside to cool before we’d eaten lunch, and she scooped out two slices before returning to the table.

“Dessert makes everything better.”

Indeed, it did.

Apparently, dessert also went into a second stomach, because I devoured my slice of apple pie, even though I’d been ready to bust like a pimple moments earlier.

“Do you have any idea how I can help the ghosts?” I asked with my mouthful. I was classy like that.

Ethel explained that it’d been done different ways over the years. Sometimes a medium would communicate with the ghost, find out what it wanted, and it’d be set free that way. Other times, a kind of exorcism took place where scripture was read to banish it.

“I don’t want to banish them,” I said after shoving another bite into my mouth. “None of them deserve that.”

“You’ll find the solution,” Ethel said. “With your gifts, it will become clear. In the meantime, I’ll tell you all I know and let you look over every book I have on the subject.”

She shooed me out of the kitchen after I ate, and I sluggishly moved down the hall. I’d gained like twenty pounds in the last hour. I rubbed my stomach and burped, feeling better already.

My satisfaction turned to horror when I saw Chan standing at the end of the corridor.

“Um, excuse me,” I said, putting a hand over my mouth.

“Do you always belch so loud?” Chan seemed amused.

“Only sometimes,” I answered, approaching him. His body seemed to flicker a moment, but he was standing beside a window and it could’ve just been a trick of the light. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“No.”

“Do you want to go outside?”

His face softened. “Yes, please.”

It was the perfect fall day, sunny and not too chilly. The leaves were vibrant shades of red and orange, alongside evergreen trees. Blue jays flew out of a tree and chased each other in the air. A crow cawed overhead before the sound of flapping wings reached my ears. I looked up just as it flew overhead. _Wait._ It was huge. Bigger than a crow.

It was a raven.

I stared at it in awe, wondering if it was a sign. Probably not.

We stepped off the veranda and strolled through the garden before reaching the bench near the fountain. Closing my eyes, I inhaled the air, loving the hints of fallen leaves, wet earth, and wood smoke.

And then there was the smell of rain, and I opened my eyes to see Chan beside me. He wasn’t fixated on our surroundings. No, his gorgeous blue eyes were focused on me.

“Forgive me for staring,” he said and averted his gaze.

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t mind.” _I stare at you plenty, so it’s no big deal._

“You stare at me?”

_Oh my god, I said that out loud?_

“Um.” I gave a nervous laugh. “Not, like, in a creepy way.”

But to a straight guy, I guess having another guy check you out _might_ be creepy. Chan didn’t seem like that type, though.

“Hey, can I ask a question?” I wanted to get the focus _far_ away from me checking him out.

“Certainly.” He looked at me and waited.

“When we first met last year, it was kind of cool, huh?” _Wow,_ I felt ten kinds of stupid.

Chan did that adorable head-cocking thing and nodded.

“I mean, I hadn’t expected to find anyone else in that graveyard, and then there you were. At first, I thought you might’ve been a serial killer, but when you said you were visiting your mom, I could relate. I don’t know how to explain it exactly, but I felt like we were alike. Both having lost a parent and both having the bright idea to hang out at a graveyard on the one day of the year when the dead can walk the earth again.”

Although it was _very_ slight, Chan’s expression changed. For a second, he’d looked nervous.

“I agree it was unexpected to find you there,” Chan responded. “However, it was not unpleasant. I enjoyed your company.”

“Not to mention I got you to try your first pumpkin spice latte,” I pointed out, grinning and suddenly craving one. “You finally lived.”

“Indeed,” he said with a light laugh. “What is your question?”

_Well, here it goes._

“Why didn’t you try to reach me again after that night?” I asked, trying to ignore the twisting in my gut. I’d searched all over town for him. Yeah, it might’ve been pathetic since I’d only known him that one night, but I’d had such a strong connection with him, as if in his presence, I’d finally found my missing half. “I looked everywhere for you, Chan, but it was like you vanished. Now here you are, having literally been just down the street from me this whole time.”

I sensed guilt from him.

“It’s difficult to explain,” he answered, dropping his gaze to his hands.

“Try.”

Blue eyes met mine. “I cannot.”

“Do you think I won’t understand?” I pressed even further. “I see ghosts, have powers, and was told I’m a warlock. There’s not much that will surprise me these days.”

“My reluctance does not come from thinking you won’t understand… but because I fear what you’ll say.” He turned toward me on the bench. “Even though a lie hasn’t been told, my silence on the matter has caused a misunderstanding, and I don’t know how to make it right.”

Guilt and sadness came off him in equal measure, and his emotions combined with my own confusion and worry was intense.

“Just freaking tell me, Chan,” I snapped, instantly regretting my harsh tone.

“Hyunjin, I…” He gave a sad shake of his head. “Please know I do not intend to keep secrets from you. You’ve become one of my dearest friends. I’ve come to look forward to your visits every day, and it pains me to consider never having those visits again. Perhaps that is why I find it difficult to tell you.”

“Is it that bad?” My head was spinning. “Did you, like, kill someone?”

Something dark flashed in his eyes and goosebumps spread along my arms.

He hadn’t exactly denied it.

My pocket vibrated and I reached into it to grab my phone. It was a text from Heejin.

**Heejin:** _mom wants 2 know if you’ll be home 4 dinner_

**Me:** _ethel cooked a big lunch, so idk. I prob won’t be hungry for a while_

**Heejin:** _r u talking with your lover? ;)_

**Me:** _shut up he’s not my lover_

“Why are you blushing?” Chan asked.

“Huh? No reason.” I put my phone away and stood from the bench, stretching my arms up into the air. When I looked back at him, I was shocked to see he wasn’t on the bench, but right in front of me. I hadn’t even heard him get up. “It’s weird how quiet you are sometimes.”

“Are you leaving?” he asked, and it was hard to miss the disappointment on his face.

I didn’t know what he was hiding from me. The fact he _was_ hiding something hurt.

The possibilities of what it could be were endless. Maybe he was a warlock too and he felt guilty for not telling me sooner, because he could’ve been a confidant for me. Maybe he put some kind of spell on me. Or maybe our meeting last Halloween wasn’t by chance like I’d believed. He could’ve intentionally been looking for me and had some evil master plan.

And what was up with that look in his eyes when I’d mentioned killing someone?

_Okay, stop. Chan is a good guy. He wouldn’t do that._

However, he felt guilty for _something_ , so he wasn’t all that he seemed.

“Do you want me to stay?” I asked.

“Yes,” he answered without a moment’s thought. “I’m not yet ready to say goodbye.”

I wasn’t either. Through my confusion and hurt, I still wanted to stay there. With him.

“Then I’ll stay,” I said, and darn it all, the delight in his blue eyes made the butterflies in my stomach awaken. “Can we go back to the library?”

“That would be lovely.” He motioned with his head toward the veranda. “Walk with me?”

I had a feeling I’d walk with him anywhere.


	11. chapter ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR LEAVING YOU HANGING FOR SO LONG AKSKFLJSLJFDKR BUT I HOPE THIS LONGER CHAPTER MAKES UP FOR IT :(((( lysm & thank u so much for reading & leaving comments <333

“Why is Minho looking at us?” Heejin asked that day at lunch. She cut her eyes at the jock table, and I pitied any man who was on the receiving end of that glare. “He better stop or I’ll rip his eyes from his head and make a Minh-o-lantern out of him.”

“Jesus, Heej.”

“What?” she asked, feigning innocence. “Too much?”

“Just a little,” I said, grinning. “Minho is nice. He’s not like his jerk friends. He doesn’t deserve to be a Minh-o-lantern. Have a heart.”

“Hearts are for wimps,” she shot back. “But I guess he can live another day.”

“How merciful of you.” I poked at the greasy square of pizza on my tray. Not even my garbage disposal way of eating had any desire to eat that crap. I lifted my finger and licked the sauce off. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad. I took a small bite off the end and slowly chewed, retracting my previous thought. It tasted like burnt rubber doused in pizza sauce. “I’d kill for a cheeseburger right now.”

“He’s still staring.”

Looking over my shoulder, I saw she was right.

Minho sat with his friends, but he wasn’t paying attention to them. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were zeroed-in on us.

“Okay, yeah, that’s weird,” I admitted, moving my gaze back to Heejin.

Her black hair was super wavy that day, and I was sure most of the girls envied her. She could get that _beach wave_ look without even trying. I’d always thought she was the prettiest girl in school, and her being my best friend had nothing to do with it.

It made me wonder sometimes why she stuck with me. She _could_ be popular if she wanted to. She had the looks and the exuberant personality. Instead, she hung out with me. If the table was turned, though, and _I_ had the choice of whether to be popular or to be her friend, I’d choose her too.

Heejin kept her eyes on Minho, and eventually, he looked away and began talking to the girl to his left.

“Are you going with me to Ethel’s today?” I asked.

Over a week had passed since Ethel agreed to let Heejin come with me to the manor, but Heejin hadn’t yet, constantly making excuses like band practice, wanting to take photos of random things, or that she had a headache. I knew she was putting it off due to nerves. I wasn’t going to be dumb enough to call her out on it, though.

I didn’t have a death wish.

“Yeah,” she answered. “I’ll text Mom after school and let her know we won’t be home until later. Will your babe Chan be there?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“He’s not my _babe_ ,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose.

Chan hadn’t said anything else about his secret, and I hadn’t pressed him on it. However, we’d become even closer. He seemed to laugh easier and not revert back to a shy demeanor as often. And I got better at not constantly drooling over him.

“Hey, use your empath thing,” Heejin whispered. “Like try to read Minho’s emotions or whatever and see what he’s thinking.”

“I can’t read minds,” I said. “Plus, Ethel told me not to try it until I was ready. She said it could be dangerous.”

“And how are you supposed to be ready if you don’t try?” she asked. “Just do it.”

_Oh the joys of peer pressure._

“Fine.”

I focused on Minho, inhaling deeply before exhaling. The last few weeks, my powers had become stronger, but it was still hard for me to read people. The feelings from other people came unexpectedly, and I hadn’t learned how to actually tune into their emotions when I wanted to yet.

Ethel had started teaching me, but I hadn’t made much progress.

_“Concentrate, Hyunjin,”_ Ethel had told me. _“Focus on the person and tune out everything else. Breathe in, breathe out.”_

All of a sudden, emotions slammed into me from all directions: worry, anger, lust, happiness, and unease. Opening myself up to read Minho had been like a dam bursting.

I gasped and clutched my head, covering my ears with both hands. That didn’t help, because I wasn’t hearing anything.

Heejin called my name, but everything was too loud. Too intense. It was hard to describe, but it was like I heard their emotions as well as felt them.

_I wish he would drop dead. What if I failed that test? I want to take her clothes off._ _I’m going to tell him I love him today._ So many whispers.

“Hyunjin!” Heejin exclaimed.

Someone was screaming. Crying.

_Oh, crap. It’s me._

Hands clamped around my wrists, and I looked up expecting to see Heejin.

It was Minho.

Blinking in surprise, I focused on his face before looking around the cafeteria. Everyone was gawking at me. And it was quiet. Not even a fork scraping a tray could be heard.

“Come with me,” he said.

The three of us stood and rushed out of the lunchroom. Right when we turned the corner, out of sight, the students started talking again and there were even a few laughs. At my expense. Minho was on one side of me and Heejin was on the other, and they led me down the hall.

I wasn’t sure where they were taking me. I didn’t care really. I just wanted to be away from everyone.

“Why are you helping him?” Heejin asked, and I didn’t have to see her face to know she was scowling.

“Because I understand what he’s going through.”

Now _that_ was interesting.

“Where are we taking him?” she asked.

“We’re ditching school for the rest of the day,” Minho responded before leading us toward the doors. “He doesn’t need to be around a crowd right now.”

I released a shaky breath once we were outside and I felt the sun on my skin. It was like an energy boost, one that was short-lived, unfortunately, and I slumped back against them. At least I wasn’t being bombarded with emotions anymore. I only felt Heejin’s worry over me.

I wasn’t getting anything from Minho, which made me laugh. Out loud. Because he’d been the reason I was even in this stupid mess. So much for controlling my powers.

“Jinnie, why are you laughing? Did your mind finally crack?”

“Whose bright idea was it for him to try to use his powers at school?” Minho asked, sounding highly aggravated. They were practically dragging me across the parking lot now, because my legs had stopped working.

I was very much an Hyunjin in distress.

“Hey, shut up, jock boy,” Heejin snapped. “I didn’t know _this_ would happen. Honestly, I didn’t even think he _had_ real powers.”

“Gee, thanks, Heej,” I mumbled, feeling disoriented and weak. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here.”

“What a good friend you are,” Minho shot back with a sarcastic sneer. “Do you get off on being mean to people, Heejin? Being a bully won’t make you happy.”

Minho thought Heejin was a bully? I guess I’d never considered it before, but in a way, she kind of was to other people. But to me, she was a protector. Someone who had my back no matter what.

“Don’t make me kick your preppy ass, Lee,” Heejin growled.

“See? Exactly what I’m talking about.” Minho wrapped his arm more around me, which kind of made my heart race, before opening the passenger’s side door to his truck.

It didn’t hit me until then how strong he was. He lifted me up into his truck and even buckled me in. I felt like a child. His truck didn’t have a backseat, so it was a three-seater, which meant we’d be sitting close together.

“Thanks,” I told him in a less feeble voice.

My strength was beginning to return, which was a good sign. I hated being a damsel.

Minho’s dark eyes crinkled with a smile and he stepped back down to the pavement. “You’re welcome.”

Heejin shoved past him and hopped in beside me before closing the door in his face. “I don’t trust him.”

“Then why are you in his truck?”

“Because I don’t trust him,” she repeated, raising her brow at me. “I’m not going to leave you alone with him. Duh.”

Minho walked around and got into the driver’s side before starting the engine.

His motives were a mystery. Maybe Heejin was right and he was untrustworthy, but he hadn’t given me any reason to doubt his good intentions. Plus, he’d said he understood what I was going through, and _that_ had piqued my interest way too much. Also, how in the crap had he known about my powers? I needed answers.

After he’d backed out of the parking spot and straightened the wheels, I gasped.

The girl with the blood all over her stood ahead of us in the road. Her short blonde hair was stuck to her head and caked in blood, and she wore a blue dress. She mouthed _help me_.

Heejin stared right at the spot the girl stood and didn’t register her standing there. “Why are we not moving?”

That’s when I looked at Minho, noticing the hardness in his gaze as he looked ahead. He saw her too. His eyes shifted to me, and I nodded. Relief flooded his face. “You see her?”

“See who?” Heejin asked.

“Yeah,” I answered. “I’ve seen her before, as well as others.”

“God, it’s a ghost, isn’t it?” Heejin sighed.

I wasn’t sure why she could see them sometimes but couldn’t other times. Ethel had mentioned before that people who were more attuned to the supernatural world saw them more than people who weren’t, so maybe that had something to do with it.

“Do you have somewhere we could go?” Minho asked. “I was going to take you to my place, but that might not be the best idea.”

“We can go to Ethel’s,” I said, still in a weird sounding voice.

Minho stared at me a moment before nodding. “She’ll probably be way more help than I can. Will she mind us stopping by?”

“It should be okay,” I said, hoping it was true. Ethel and I’d become close, but she was still leery of strangers stopping by unannounced, unless they were customers.

Minho drove around the ghost, who still watched us in silent horror, and got on the main road.

“Are you a warlock too?” I wasn’t able to hold the question at bay any longer.

“What do you mean by _too_?” Heejin questioned, bumping my arm.

_Ah, crap._

“I’m kind of a warlock,” I confessed, turning around to her. I gave her the short version, talking about how Grandma Hwang had been a witch, and how she and Ethel had been best friends. “So yeah. It’s in my blood, and during my visits with Ethel, she’s been teaching me about our history.”

My heart hurt, and it took me a second to realize it was coming from Heejin and I wasn’t having a heart attack or something.

“Why are you just now telling me?” she asked as her eyes became glassy.

“You admitted not even five minutes ago that you didn’t believe I actually had powers,” I pointed out. “Would you honestly have believed me if I told you, Heej?”

“Probably not,” she answered. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a brat. All of this _Twilight Zone_ stuff just freaks me out.”

“I love that show,” Minho said, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He turned into Ethel’s driveway and stopped because of the closed gate. “Should I get out and open it?”

“I can,” I said, unfastening my seatbelt.

The gate swung open.

“Well, that was easy,” Minho commented with an impressed smile. He drove forward, and once we were through the gate, it closed again behind us. The journey down the long driveway was shorter than usual—thanks, truck—and within seconds, we were in front of the manor. “Wow.”

“I know, right?” I said.

It didn’t matter how many times I’d gone to the manor, it still took my breath away. With a little touch of love, it could look even greater too. I’d told Ethel that when the weather warmed in the spring, I’d love to help her fix the place up. She’d brought up the topic of me moving in several more times as well, and I was starting to consider it.

Mom hadn’t reached out to me since I’d left. The only time I’d seen her was when I went back to grab more clothes. She hadn’t said a word; just glared at me. Any thoughts of going back home vanished that day. I didn’t understand how a mom could do that, but whatever. She had loved Dad more than anything, but me? Not so much.

After Minho parked, we got out of the truck, and they stared upward at the manor with their mouths open.

“This place is even more amazing up close,” Minho said.

“More like creepy.” Heejin shuddered.

I looked up and smiled when I saw Chan in the upstairs window, peering down at us. Just the sight of him warmed me from the inside out.

“Come on,” I said, walking up the steps.

-

Ethel hadn’t been surprised by our visit, as if she’d known we were coming. Four cups of tea were set around the table in the sitting room, instead of our usual two, and she’d made lemon squares.

“Maybe now you’ll listen and heed my advice,” Ethel said, narrowing her green eyes at me. “Your powers are not something to play with, Hwang Hyunjin. You could’ve seriously injured yourself today.”

“It was my fault, Mrs. Glass,” Heejin admitted with a sheepish expression. “I told him to. I didn’t think anything bad would happen.”

“You are consumed with doubt, young lady,” Ethel responded. “You’ve seen the world for what it is, and yet you still choose to cling onto ignorance.”

I nearly spat my tea, and Heejin gave me the evil eye.

“I don’t mean that as an insult. It’s merely a statement of fact. The world can be a dark place, filled with monsters and evil, but it’s also full of light. Don’t place a veil over your eyes to keep from seeing what lurks in the shadows and instead, open your eyes and take charge.”

“W-what do you mean?” Heejin stammered.

I’d never really heard my best friend sound so unsure before.

“Hyunjin will need you on his journey,” Ethel said before sipping her tea. “Your support is imperative for him. Without it, he’ll fail.”

_Wait, what? That was news to me!_

“Calm your thoughts, boy.” Ethel pinned me with a stare. “You know all you need to know for the time being.”

“My support?” Heejin shoved a lemon square into her mouth. “He already has that.”

“Not when you’re in denial of the very thing he needs help with. You’re not only in denial about seeing spirits, but with all things supernatural,” Ethel countered before looking at me. “You told me you felt that helping spirits move on to the afterlife was the reason you were chosen for your gifts. In part, that’s true, and it’ll play an important role in your self-discovery. However, your destiny is greater than helping spirits pass on. Much greater.”

My brain puttered and died. I had no response.

Why hadn’t Ethel told me this before? _Why won’t she tell me my destiny?_ _I mean, it’d only freaking help me succeed, right?_

“Wrong,” she answered my unspoken question. “If I tell you, it could ruin everything.”

“That’s so freaky how you do that, Mrs. Glass.” Heejin shook her head and took a drink. She looked down into the cup and nodded. “This is the best tea I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you, dear. It was made with love. That’s the secret ingredient, you know.”

“You knew we’d visit today,” Minho said, running his fingertips along the lip of his cup.

I admit it was odd seeing him sitting across from me. The way his lean body sat in the chair, and his dark hair and piercing cat eyes gave him superhuman good looks. I’d crushed on him for a while, and then I found out I had more in common with him than I ever thought possible.

_He’s not my Chan, though._

Wait. _My_ Chan?

_Oh, boy._

“Indeed, I did,” Ethel answered. “I have the gift of sight, and I saw this very moment weeks ago.”

I raised my brows, impressed. She could keep one heck of a secret. I would’ve ended up blabbing about it way before then, like saying something like, ‘I can’t wait until you make a fool of yourself at school and I get to meet your friends.’ Ethel was the Keeper of Secrets, the All-Knowing Master of Self-control.

I wondered if she knew Chan’s secret too.

Just then, her green eyes flickered to me.

My stomach coiled. _Looks like I got my answer._ Why were they keeping it from me?

Heejin, feeling more confident, started asking Ethel all sorts of questions, which Ethel didn’t seem to mind.

“What’s the best way me and Jinnie can help the ghosts?” she asked her tenth question in a row.

“I’ve explained to Hyunjin that each person is different,” Ethel answered. “My suggestion is to maybe research the areas the ghosts are most active. See how they lived, and maybe then, you can understand why they died.”

As they talked, I looked at Minho. He hadn’t answered whether he was a warlock. I didn’t know _what_ he was. He studied the room curiously before his gaze landed on the antique clock on the mantel above the fireplace.

“Now that’s a piece of powerful magic,” he announced, moving his blue-eyed stare to me. “Time manipulation is dangerous, though. Something like that should be locked away.”

“What the heck are you, Minho?” It was probably my frustration at Chan and Ethel, but my question had come out harsher than I’d intended. “You said you understand what I’m going through. How?”

“Like you, I come from a powerful bloodline and was recently introduced to all of this,” was all he answered.

Ethel stopped midsentence and focused on him, her brow creased and her eyes were inquisitive. Then, her face paled a little. Whatever she’d just realized was huge. It was crazy to me that anything could shock her, because she knew everything and was always three steps ahead of everybody else.

Apparently not when it came to Minho.

“Impossible,” she said, drawing everyone’s attention. “How am I just now sensing it?”

Minho watched her, and maybe it was the dim lighting, but his eyes looked as if they darkened. “Maybe we should talk in private.”

Ethel nodded and looked at me. “Hyunjin, why don’t you and Heejin go find Chan? I’m sure he’ll be eager to meet your friend. He doesn’t meet many new faces.”

_Wow._ I was being cast aside. I felt like I was a kid again, being told to _go play_ while the grownups talked.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Ethel said.

“Fine.” I looked between her and Minho before scooting back my chair and standing. I held out a hand for Heejin, and once I’d helped her stand, I looped arms with her. “We’re not wanted here.”

Minho snorted, and I shot him a narrowed-eyed look before sticking my nose up in the air and walking out with Heejin. Total drama king style.

I tended to cover up hurt feelings with jokes. I was sure Ethel and Minho had their reason for not wanting me to hear their discussion, but it still hurt nonetheless. There was so much I didn’t know about our world, and it seemed with every question that was answered, two more popped up in its place.

The only good thing about being tossed out of the room was seeing Chan. We’d been at Ethel’s for almost an hour, and he hadn’t approached us yet. He was probably giving us space and not wanting to interrupt.

“Chan?” I called once me and Heejin reached the bottom of the stairs.

She craned her neck toward the ceiling. “Whoever lived here in the past must’ve been loaded.”

“They were the richest family in town,” I said, remembering what Chan had told me. “I guess when you have the money, why not, right?”

Chan walked down the stairs and stood on the small landing that separated the two flights of stairs. One hand was behind his back and the other was resting at his side. Just like when seeing the manor, seeing Chan took my breath away too. His white-blond hair was fixed in its usual style and his clothing was old-fashioned.

“Holy crap,” Heejin whispered, staring up at him with wide eyes. “ _That’s_ Chan?” She peered at me from the side. “You said he was hot, not drop-dead gorgeous _hot_. Why haven’t you made a move on him, you doofus?”

“Shh, he’s coming.”

“Not in the way he should, unfortunately.”

“Oh my god, Heej.” My face felt like I’d shoved it into a furnace.

“Good afternoon,” Chan said, stepping off the stairs and stopping in front of us. He smiled at Heejin, and I could’ve sworn she stopped breathing. “You must be Heejin. Dear Hyunjin has told me all about you.”

_Dear Hyunjin._ Okay, my heart melted a little.

“Yep, that’s me,” she said, gawking at him. “He’s told me about you too, but he failed to mention your finer qualities.”

I shoulder-bumped her, and she returned the action. Meanwhile, Chan exchanged a look between the pair of us. Curious as always.

“I’m not all that interesting, I regret to say,” he spoke in the cadence I adored. Although it’d been a bit strange when I first met him, I’d grown to love the way he talked, as if he’d stepped out of a black and white movie.

“That depends on the point of view.” Heejin gave a toothy grin just as I felt a fluttering in my stomach. Not _my_ fluttering, but hers. She was totally crushing on my guy. The brat. “You seem very interesting to me.”

“Okay, how about we give her a tour of the place?” I suggested, refraining from bopping her on the nose.

Chan’s blue eyes held my gaze, and I felt warmth coming from him. It hit me that maybe I had the same effect on him as he did on me. Whenever I was in his presence, I got warm fuzzies in my chest, and that’s what I sensed coming from him too.

I hadn’t confessed I had feelings for him, so it could’ve been in my head. The way he looked at me, though, as if I was some answer to a question long since asked… well, it made me believe that maybe I wasn’t alone in those feelings.

“Wow,” Heejin said, interrupting our moment. “Do you guys need a room or something?”

I blushed, and a shy smile crept across Chan’s face.

We showed Heejin the rooms downstairs before going to the second floor and continuing the tour. Unlike me, she wasn’t wowed by the library, mainly because she wasn’t too much of a bookworm. She loved the upstairs study, though, and she sat at the desk, pretending to smoke a pipe.

“Is there an armory?” she asked, perking up. “These old mansions always have those.”

“Heej, this isn’t a medieval castle,” I said, rolling my eyes. “There’s not an armo—”

“Actually, yes,” Chan interjected, standing near the window and peering out. He turned to us. “Henry Bang was a collector of ancient weapons. He turned one of the studies into his personal armory. For display purposes only. When the house was sold to the Glass family, all of the former family’s possessions were sold with it, including the various weapons Bang had.”

“How do you know so much about it?” I asked as an uneasy feeling settled in my gut.

Something definitely felt off.

“I live here, Hyunjin,” he responded, tilting his head. “Ethel heard from her parents, and then she shared it with me.” He smiled, but beneath that smile, I felt his nerves.

A clever liar he was, but he forgot I was an empath who could pick up on such lies.

“Why are you lying to me?”

Chan clenched his jaw and didn’t respond.

Heejin had stopped paying attention after Chan said there was an armory. She had jumped out of the chair and was grabbing things off the bookshelf before putting them back in place.

“What are you doing?” I asked her.

“This is how you find hidden rooms.” She gave me a _duh_ look before tapping the wall with her fingers. “It’s always some random book on the shelf or a camouflaged button.”

“This isn’t an _Indiana Jones_ movie.”

“Follow me,” Chan said before walking out of the room. Tension lay between us, and I didn’t like it.

“I’m sorry,” I said, catching up with him. “I just don’t see why you won’t tell me the truth.”

He remained silent for several seconds. His jaw was tight, and his brow was furrowed. Then, he sighed and whirled around to me. “I’m afraid you won’t accept the truth. I do not like keeping secrets from you, Hyunjin, but this is a truth that even _I_ have difficulty accepting most days. Just… give me time. Can you do that?”

I stared into his blue eyes, seeing myself reflected in them.

“Okay,” I said.

“A lover’s quarrel,” Heejin whispered from behind us, and I turned around to glare at her. “What? I didn’t say anything.”

Chan continued walking, and we followed behind him. He led us back downstairs and then to a corridor I hadn’t yet explored, one easily missed for it was accessed by a door that didn’t quite look like a door. I’d thought I had explored every inch of that place during the month I’d visited Ethel, but the manor was full of surprises, as if it had secrets of its own.

“Here we are,” Chan announced once opening another door that led into the armory. “Feel free to look around, but please do not touch. I made the mistake once of picking up one of the swords, and I nearly poked my eye out.”

I laughed, looking at him. He was always so poised and careful; I couldn’t imagine him being so careless, and with a sword no less.

“Why do you smile?” he asked me as the side of his mouth quirked up. God he was too handsome and really nailed the lopsided grin thing.

“No reason.” I smiled and moved closer to him. As Heejin became laser focused on a suit of armor in the corner of the room, I peered up at Chan. “Are we cool?”

“Cool?” He looked so lost before realization lit his face. “Oh, yes. We’re cool. I could never stay angry at you, Hyunjin.”

“I couldn’t with you either.”

A silence passed and we watched my best friend move around the room.

“I’m aware you have feelings for me,” Chan said, not meeting my eyes and instead keeping his focus on Heejin. Maybe he was too disgusted to look at me?

_No, stop. He’s not a homophobe._

Should I try to deny it? The thing was: I didn’t _want_ to deny it anymore.

Over the last few weeks, he and I had talked a lot. And even when we weren’t talking, we’d still enjoyed each other’s company by being in the same room reading a book or he would watch me while I sketched.

He’d become familiar. Safe. I didn’t want to lose him.

“I do,” I admitted before swallowing the tightness in my throat. My pulse raced so fast that all I could hear was the pounding of my heart. After taking a breath, I moved my gaze to him. He was staring at me with an awed expression. “Does… does that bother you?”

“Not at all,” he answered.

I wanted to ask if he liked me too.

“This Henry guy had good taste,” Heejin said, moving along the wall and admiring the weapons hanging there. Some were displayed in glass cases in the middle of the room, and others, such as battle axes, longswords, and shields were on the wall.

Chan gave a tight smile. “Depends on who you ask.”

Call me crazy, but I got the impression Chan didn’t like the guy. I wondered what he knew about Henry Bang that made him feel that way.

Heejin resumed her browsing of the wall, and I focused back on Chan.

“Are you seeing someone?” I asked.

He did that adorable face scrunch and cocked his head. “I see you.”

_Oh, crap. Was he flirting? Seriously?_

“I see you too,” I responded with a smile. I didn’t know what it meant, but it sounded nice. “But, um. Like, do you have a girlfriend?” _Boyfriend?_

I didn’t know much about his social life, other than Ethel saying he didn’t meet many people. The topic of relationships had never come up.

“No woman has caught my eye,” he answered, staring at me with such intensity that if I hadn’t been leaning against the wall, I would’ve toppled over.

The question of whether he’d ever consider going on a date with _me_ was on the tip of my tongue, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t say it out loud. If he liked me, he would’ve come out and said it once I’d admitted to liking him, right?

But then I recalled the time I’d shown him my sketchbook and I’d called him handsome when we were looking at his roughly sketched portrait. He had become shy before saying I was handsome too.

That had to mean something.

Once Heejin had looked at every weapon in the room and gushed over them, we headed back toward the sitting room where Ethel and Minho still sat. More than an hour had passed, so they’d had plenty of time to chitchat without the kids around.

For some reason, I expected to walk into the room and see them killing each other, mainly because of how tense things had seemed before I’d left them alone. That didn’t happen, obviously. When we entered the study, they were sharing a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and talking amongst themselves.

Such a betrayal. Eating cookies without me.

“I see how it is,” I said, standing in front of the table. “I’ve been replaced.”

Minho laughed and stood up, clapping me on the back. “Nah, you’re irreplaceable, Hwang.” He focused on something behind me. “So you’re Chan, huh?”

Chan stood in the doorway, looking uneasy. “Yes.”

When Minho smiled, it didn’t exactly seem friendly. More guarded. Then, his eyes widened and his face paled. I couldn’t read his emotions, but whatever he was thinking—and feeling—wasn’t anything good. He then looked at Heejin. “Ready to go home?”

I looked at my phone and saw it was after five p.m. The afternoon had really flown by and it was close to dinner time.

Heejin said bye to Ethel before blowing a flirty kiss to Chan—and yeah, she winked at me afterward, knowing she was getting a rise out of me. I suspected she was doing it so I’d get fed up and make a move on Chan, but I was too much of a coward for that.

Minho and Heejin walked toward the front door and went outside, but I halted in the room.

“My offer is still open, Hyunjin,” Ethel said before pulling me in for a hug. “You would be a joy to have around the house, and I know Chan feels the same.”

“Let me think more on it?” I asked, knowing I’d eventually agree to move in with her. A part of me still thought I was a nuisance, though.

“Nonsense,” she said, gently slapping my arm, and I grinned. “You are far from a nuisance.”

Mind reading would be such an awesome gift.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told her before walking out of the room.

Chan was standing in the foyer, waiting for me.

As I approached him, my heart did little flips.

In such a short time, he’d come to mean a lot to me—more than I cared to admit even to myself. Every visit, he had opened up more and more to me, and we’d talked about all sorts of things, from my weird fascinations to his favorite food. In the beginning, he had only stayed around for an hour or so before leaving, but lately, he’d been around me nearly the entire time I was at Ethel’s, with the exception of today.

“I do hope to see you again soon.” Chan lifted his hand and ghosted his fingers along my jaw. And just like all the other times when he’d done it, he didn’t actually touch me.

However, I felt something, a light tickle that made the hairs on my nape stand on end. I wanted so badly to press my face into his hand, but I behaved myself. If he didn’t want to touch me, I wouldn’t make him.

“What was it you said to me before?” I smiled at the memory. “Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

Warmth filled my chest, and once again, I realized it was his emotions and not mine.

“I shall say goodnight ‘til it be morrow,” he whispered before dropping his hand and stepping back.

“Chan, I…” I went to grab his hand, but he gently pulled it out of my reach before I could. It didn’t feel like a rejection, though, not with the yearning gaze he gave me. “Am I wrong to feel the way I do about you? I know we don’t know each other that well, but I feel connected to you in ways I’ve never been connected to anyone.”

There. I said it. Now the ball was in his court.

“My dear Hyunjin,” he said in a tone that made my heart ache. His eyes burned with both passion and grief. “I wish more than anything I could’ve known you in another life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I was tired of the riddles and half-answers. Minho was apparently something that Ethel didn’t believe could exist, but neither would tell me what he was. Chan was guarded and refused to tell me some big secret, one he said would upset me—which made me want to know it even more because the anticipation was killing me.

The only person in my life who wasn’t keeping something from me was Heejin.

“There are things about this manor you haven’t yet discovered,” Chan said, stepping farther away. His sad expression made me want to pull him into the biggest hug, but I stayed still. “When you do, you won’t look at me the same. And that breaks my heart.”

Before I could utter a word, he turned and vanished down the corridor.


	12. chapter eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating this for so long ugh college will be the cause of my death :))))))) anyways this is kind of a filler chapter, but it IS important sooooo yeah. i already started writing the next chapter so i pinky promise to try to post it as quickly as i can. and you'll def like it ;))))

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Heejin muttered with disapproval and put her hands over her face.

We were at the public library on the computer, looking up death records of people from our town. Ethel had suggested a week ago that researching the areas where we saw ghosts could help us better understand them. There were different ways of helping ghosts move on, and I felt in my gut that this was _my_ way: to understand their death and communicate with them in hopes of giving them peace.

Unfortunately, that meant going through the death records and reading about the horrible ways people of Iris Hollow had died. Halloween was less than a week away, and if what Ethel said was true—about ghosts being able to freely walk among the living that night—I wanted to be prepared just in case I bumped into any of them.

Remembering that ghost in the Victorian house downtown still gave me the creeps.

“Have you talked to Minho recently?” Heejin asked. “He seems to be avoiding me at school. Not that I’m _trying_ to talk to him or anything.”

“Kind of,” I answered, glancing at her. “We text some and he says hi to me in the hall.”

“You text him? How am I just now hearing of this?”

“You never asked.” I shrugged. “We don’t say anything important to each other. Mostly just _hey, how’s it going?_ And crap like that. I keep asking him how he fits into all of this, but he won’t tell me.”

“Do you think he’s a vampire?” she asked.

I snorted, but then I realized she wasn’t joking. “Oh. Um. I doubt it. Pretty sure vampires aren’t actually real.”

“Well ghosts and witches are real, why not vamps too?”

“Still searching for your Edward, huh?”

Heejin glared, but her lips twitched with a smile. She had gone through a massive _Twilight_ phase. She wasn’t much of a bookworm, but she had devoured all of the books and had watched all the movies opening night in the theater. She’d even had a shirt that said _Team Edward_.

“Don’t make me murder you in this library, Jinnie.”

“My money is still on him being a warlock,” I said.

“And mine is on him being a vampire,” she shot back. “Loser has to do the other’s homework for a week.”

“No,” I huffed out. “I make straight A’s and you make C’s. That’s not a fair trade.”

Heejin grinned and flipped her wavy hair. The demon.

“Okay, let’s see.” I scrolled through the online newspaper obituaries, but without either a date or a name, I was lost on how to find what I needed. Most of what I was seeing was from recent newspapers and they weren’t necessarily violent, mainly just heart attacks or strokes.

There were a few car accidents, though, which got me thinking.

Technology was kind of kickass nowadays, and basically anything you wanted to find could be found with a simple Google search. I opened another tab and typed into the search engine _girl dies at Iris Hollow High_. Several results popped up, and as I scanned through them, it was a bit unsettling to see exactly how many girls had died at our school throughout the years.

“Oh lord,” Heejin said in horror. “I’ll never be able to walk our halls again without thinking of this. A girl _really_ died in the bathroom?”

“Maybe she haunts it,” I said. “I wonder if the cause of death was seeing big yellow eyes by the sink.”

“Is _everything_ a Harry Potter reference for you, Jinnie?”

“Pretty much. But you’re also a nerd for understanding them.”

“Wow. Touché,” she said and leaned closer to the computer, squinting. “I can’t believe we spent all day at school and now we’re spending our afternoon in the library. Ugh. When did we become this, Hwang Hyunjin?”

“Hey, at least it’s not boring research.”

“Yeah, nothing boring about death.” She cringed. “Wait, what’s that say?”

She pointed to an article and I clicked it.

_GIRL HIT BY DRUNK DRIVER_

_On April 16 th, Park Younghee, an honor student at Iris Hollow High was struck by a drunk driver on prom night. She was leaving the dance with her boyfriend, Choi Sunghoon, when a truck smashed into their car, sending the car into a ditch. Reports say the driver was intoxicated. Sunghoon suffered minor injuries, but survived the crash._

I stopped reading and released a shaky breath. There was a picture of her at the bottom of the article, and it was one-hundred percent the girl I’d seen. She had short curly bleached hair and was beaming with a smile. She looked so happy. Way too young for her life to be cut so short.

“That’s sad,” Heejin said. “I wonder what’s keeping her from moving on.”

“Her boyfriend lived. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t know what happened to him? Like she’s searching the highway for him and not able to move on until she knows?”

“Let’s see what happened to him then.” Heejin put on her game-face and took over control of the computer. The crash had happened nearly ten years ago. After some browsing of public records and searching for his name and coming up with diddly-squat, we did the sensible thing and looked him up on Facebook. “Looks like he’s married now and has a daughter. Aw, they’re a cute family.”

In the photo, Sunghoon and his wife sat in front of a colorful fall tree, surrounded by fallen leaves and pumpkins. Their daughter sat on Sunghoon’s lap, mid-laugh as the picture was taken. The caption above the picture read, _“Younghee wouldn’t stop giggling, so this is the best we got. Gotta love my little rugrat.”_

“Oh my god. He named his daughter after Younghee.” Heejin made an _awe_ noise, and I arched a brow at her.

“Since when did you become a romantic all of a sudden?”

“I’m not. Shut up. I have no heart.”

Yeah, she didn’t fool me.

With the thought of romance also came the thought of Chan.

In the past week, things with him had been a bit weird. He seemed to keep his distance a little more than usual, and when we went off on our own to sit in his favorite spot in the back garden or when we were in the library, we talked, but it wasn’t the same. I’d begun feeling extremely sad around him, as if he was struggling so much with whatever his secret was that it was consuming him.

_“There are things about this manor you haven’t yet discovered,”_ he had told me. _“When you do, you won’t look at me the same. And that breaks my heart.”_

I couldn’t bring myself to further research the manor, because I knew if I dug deep enough into its history, I would find whatever scared him. As much as I wanted to know, a part of me wanted to remain oblivious. At least for a while longer.

“Okay, this might sound crazy,” Heejin said, pulling me out of my head. “Especially coming from me. But I think we should go looking for this ghost tonight.”

We left the library and went back to her house. Heejin’s mom was cooking dinner and asked if we’d had fun at the library. Our simultaneous _yes_ answers made her narrow her eyes suspiciously.

“Why do I get the feeling you two are up to something?” she asked, shaking the cooking spoon at us.

I grinned. “Because it’s us.”

“You two aren’t breaking into any foreclosed buildings again are you?” Worry came from her, despite her playful tone. She had been pissed—and rightly so—when Heejin and I’d gotten brought home by the cops all those months ago.

“Oh no,” Heejin answered with wide eyes. “I value my freedom too much. My crime days are behind me.”

“Good.” Heejin’s mom eyed us a second longer before turning back to the stove. She stirred whatever was in the skillet; a mix of vegetables and what looked like strip steak. “Have you thought more on what you’re going to do, Hyunjin?”

I had mentioned Ethel’s offer to let me move in. She hadn’t been upset about it, and had seemed happy for me. I had explained that Ethel had been my dad’s godmother, so even though she wasn’t a blood relation, I considered her family.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to do it,” I said, feeling my nerves spring to life. New and exciting things always made me sort of anxious.

Living with Ethel would be ideal not only because I enjoyed being around her and was in love with the manor, but because she would also have more time to teach me about my powers. I wouldn’t have to run off once it got dark, and I could stay there permanently. We’d be able to talk whenever and I could spend even longer researching in the library.

_And Chan had nothing to do with my decision. Nope._

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Heejin’s mom said, grabbing plates from the cabinet. “Just promise you’ll still come visit me. I need my _Supernatural_ watching buddy for the new episodes.”

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Heejin scoffed.

I stuck my tongue out at her.

After dinner—which I ate way too much of as always—Heejin and I went up to her room. It was going to be a chilly night. She threw on a jacket over her long-sleeved shirt, and I grabbed my hoodie.

“What if I can’t see her?” Heejin asked. “I haven’t been able to the past few times you’ve spotted her.”

“Ethel told me that we tend to see ghosts easier once our eyes are opened to that world. So, like, the more we learn about them, the more we see them. Our knowledge is like a beacon for the lost souls.”

“God, you’re such a weirdo.”

I wasn’t sure how the night was going to go. I mean, I’d seen plenty of ghosts, but that would be the first time I’d intentionally sought one out.

Maybe it would work. Maybe it wouldn’t. Or maybe she’d eat us.

“You ready?” I asked Heejin before sticking up my fists like a boxer and gently jabbing at her.

“No.” She slapped me upside the head. “Okay, now I am.”

“Brat.”

“Doofus.”

-

A winter bite was in the air due to a cold front that’d just come through; somewhat chilly days with cold nights. Heejin and I stood on the side of the road, huddled together and glancing around the area. The school was up ahead and I didn’t realize until then how creepy it actually looked. Having all the lights off didn’t help.

“Have I told you before, Jinnie, that I hate you?”

I snickered. “Heej, this was _your_ idea.”

“I know!” she exclaimed with a huff. “But it’s your fault. You introduced me to all this ghost crap. Mrs. Glass grilling me about needing to support you opened my eyes, and I feel bad for being such a crappy friend, so I’m ready to finally step up and be the friend you need me to be. I still hate you, though.”

“Heejin, if you don’t _want_ to do this, you don’t have to. Yeah, Ethel said that stuff, but you still have a choice. I’m not going to make you be a part of this.”

“You aren’t making me, silly.” Heejin nudged me. “Now shut up. We don’t want to scare away the ghost.” She snorted. “I didn’t think I’d ever say that.”

A flicker of something caught my eye, and I turned my head to see Park Younghee’s ghost.

“Um, Heej?” I whispered, elbowing her side. “Do you see her?”

Heejin whipped her head around and gasped. “Roger that.”

The ghost stood on the edge of the road, right where the pavement met the grass, and her hands were at her sides, blood dripping from her fingers and disappearing before hitting the ground.

_“Help me,”_ she wailed, focusing on us. Her head twitched to the side as her body flickered in and out. She lifted a hand and pointed to the ditch. _“He’s hurt.”_

_Oh my god._

Younghee was the type of ghost that seemed to relive her death over and over, like stuck in a time loop. Had she originally survived the crash and got out of the car to get help for Sunghoon? And then… what? Got hit by someone else?

The semi.

All of a sudden, there was a screeching as headlights shone on her. She raised her arms to cover her face and screamed as the phantom semi slammed into her. Both Younghee and the semi vanished, but the screams could still be heard.

Heejin screeched and fell backward on the grass, tumbling down the small hill to the ditch.

“Heej!” I ran after her. The grass was slick, and I ended up sliding and tumbling too. We were officially the worst ghost hunters in existence. Once I got back to my feet, the knees of my jeans all scuffed to hell and back, I grabbed her hand and lifted her back up. “You okay?”

“What the heck just happened? I thought we were toast.”

“The semi wasn’t real,” I explained. “It’s part of her last moments. _That’s_ how she died, Heej. She went to get help and…” I looked up at the road, not having the heart to finish my sentence.

“So what do we do now?”

“Well, she must still be worried about Sunghoon, like we thought,” I said. “She never knew what happened to him. Her last moment before dying was trying to help him. Maybe that’s what’s keeping her here.”

A gut feeling told me I was right. And even though the situation was sad, I was excited. I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I’d be able to help her. I’d be able to help them all.

“Come on.” Holding Heejin’s hand, I treaded back up the hill, careful not to slip on the grass again.

When we got back to the top, Younghee was there again. Blood caked in her hair and down her blue prom dress. _“He’s hurt.”_

“Park Younghee?” I spoke, surprised at how steady my voice was. I was a bundle of nerves. Younghee’s head twitched, as did her body, and it reminded me of an old TV that was going out. “Don’t be afraid. We’re here to help you.”

_“Help him.”_

Heejin was gripping the back of my hoodie and hiding behind me. I was proud of her. She was clearly still somewhat afraid of ghosts, but she had put that fear behind her to help me.

“Sunghoon is okay,” I said in a soft tone. “He survived the crash.”

Younghee’s whole body vibrated and suddenly, she vanished and reappeared not even a foot from me. It took everything I had not to scream. Her dark eyes peered into mine. She wasn’t trying to hurt me, though. She was intrigued, probably because I could actually talk to her.

_“Sunghoon… he’s hurt.”_

“No,” I countered, reaching to grab her hand. I mean, it was habit for when you comforted people. I didn’t know if you could even touch a ghost. My hand went right through her, which answered that. The sensation was odd—it was a little thicker than air but still not solid. And cold. “You’re dead, Younghee. You died ten years ago. Right in this spot.”

“Oh my god, Jinnie, what if she goes nuts on us?” Heejin hissed in my ear.

“She won’t.”

During my research in Ethel’s library, I’d read a lot about ghosts. Some of them—the ones like Younghee that were stuck in a loop—didn’t realize they’re dead. Revealing the truth could help jolt them out of that loop.

Younghee stepped closer, her body going from a faint flickering to almost normal. _“I’m… dead?”_

She looked down at herself before looking back into my eyes.

“Yes.” I nodded. “Sunghoon isn’t hurt anymore. He’s okay. He survived the crash.” Something strange happened next. With my empath abilities, I could feel other people’s emotions, but without even registering how I was doing it, I sent a wave of calm toward her. Like a reverse of what I usually did. “It’s time for you to rest, Younghee.”

She stilled and the pained expression on her face relaxed. Became peaceful. Her body began to shimmer, as if thousands of golden specks of light were gathering on her. A soft sigh echoed in the air before the golden light shot out in all directions, and she was gone.

The anguish I’d felt earlier was gone too.

“We did it,” I whispered, turning around to Heejin.

“No, _you_ did it.” She smiled and pulled me in for a hug. “That was… I don’t know how to describe it. You helped her, Jinnie. She’s not suffering anymore.”

As we got into her car and drove back to the house, I thought about the other ghosts: the boy in my old room and the man at Heejin’s house. My new mission was to research as much as I could about their deaths and figure out how to help them too.

I couldn’t wait to tell Ethel.

The next morning, I had a hard time getting out of bed. My mind had kept me awake most of the night. I’d been too excited to sleep. I regretted that fact, though, as I lazily rolled off the mattress and walked to the bathroom in true zombie form. Luckily, Heejin had already showered, so the bathroom was free for me to do the same.

Still groggy and with my eyes barely open, I flipped on the light and closed the bathroom door. And then nearly had a heart attack when I saw the dead man standing in front of the sink, staring right at me.

The blood—and not to be gross, but brain too—oozing from the side of his head made me forget all about what I wanted to eat for breakfast. I’d never eat jelly doughnuts again.

_“Why did I do this?”_

“Dude,” I said, rubbing at my eyes. “I don’t know why you did it, but I swear to you I’m gonna figure it out. Okay?” Although I had to pee _really_ badly, I hesitated. I mean, dead or not, I didn’t want him to see my junk. “Can I, uh, have some privacy please?”

The ghost flickered before going away.

“Thanks,” I said to the empty air.

It wasn’t the weirdest conversation I’d ever had.


	13. chapter twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sheeeesh i hope you like this chapter! it's one of my personal favs up until now :))))

**T** hat Wednesday was special for several reasons. One, it was Halloween, one of my favorite days of the year. And two? I was finally moving into the manor. Heejin’s mom had been worried what my mom would do about me not going home. Since I wasn’t a legal adult, Mom could very well say I was a runaway and have my ass hauled back to her house.

So I’d called dear old Mom. This was a gist of our conversation.

“What do you want, Hyunjin?” Mom answered.

“It’s nice to hear from you too,” I responded like the smartass I was. “I just called to tell you that I’m going to be living with Ethel Glass. Her and Grandma were close, and since you want nothing to do with me, she’s kinda the only family I have.”

“Okay. Is that all? I’m busy.”

I’d known she’d behave that way, but it still hurt. I guess I’d unintentionally held onto a shred of hope that she’d be the type of mom that loved her kid unconditionally. We’d never had that sort of relationship, though. Dad had been the only thing keeping us together, and once he died, that thread had been snipped and we’d drifted even farther apart.

“I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment to you,” I said, fighting the urge to cry. “But I’m proud of who I am.”

She hadn’t even bothered to respond. She’d hung up on me.

I held Dad’s dog tag and closed my eyes, giving myself a moment or so to compose myself before walking downstairs to Heejin’s and her mom.

Heejin’s mom had cat ears, her nose was painted black, and she had whiskers. She worked as a teacher at the elementary school, and they’d gotten to dress up that day. School had been out for about two hours, but she hadn’t wanted to take it off yet.

Heejin looked like her typical self, but she’d put on a bit more makeup than normal. Smoky gray was on her lids and her lashes were long and dark.

“Ready to go, sweetie?” Heejin’s mom asked as she grabbed her purse.

“Yep.”

I carried Dad’s duffel bag filled with my stuff, my backpack, and my laptop bag. It was a good thing I didn’t have a lot, because it made moving easy.

They drove me to Ethel’s house, and Heejin’s mom asked if she could come up to the house and talk to Ethel. Right as she asked the question, the front door opened and Ethel came walking out dressed as a witch—pointy black hat, black robe, and everything. I laughed and then covered it with a cough.

Her sense of humor was awesome.

“What are you gonna do tonight?” I asked Heejin after we’d gotten out of the car.

She shrugged. “Not sure yet. I think Mom wants to go to a movie, so we might do that. We haven’t had a night out together in a while. What about you?”

“Probably just get settled in here,” I answered, grabbing the duffel bag from the trunk. “I’m not really in the celebrating mood right now.”

“Talking to your mom was that bad, huh?”

“Something like that.”

Knowing your own mother didn’t give a crap about you wasn’t the greatest feeling in the world. But that was reality for a lot of kids, not just for me.

Ethel glanced over at me from where she stood on the porch talking to Heejin’s mom, and the look in her eyes said more than words ever could. I had a home with her, and it didn’t matter that I’d only known her for a month and a few weeks. I’d talked to her more within that time than I had with my mom in years.

“Text me if you need me, okay?” Heejin wrapped her arms around me and held me in a tight hug. My hands were full, but I did my best to hug her back. I heard her chuckle against my ear before she leaned back and gave me a knowing look. “And don’t think I forgot that sex bomb Chan lives here. You boys behave yourselves.”

“It’s not like that between us, Heej.” I rolled my eyes. I left out the fact that I wouldn’t mind if it was, though.

Once they left, I walked with Ethel into the manor. As she closed the door, it really hit me that I wasn’t just going over there to visit and have a cup of tea. It was a place where I was wanted and safe. My home.

“I’ll show you to your room.” She beamed at me. “I hope you don’t mind, but I picked one for you.”

“I don’t mind at all.” Honestly, she probably knew me better than I knew myself, so I fully trusted her decision.

As we walked up the two flights of stairs, something occurred to me. Out of all the times I’d hung out with Chan, not once had he ever shown me his room. However, he was a private person, so it didn’t strike me as too odd. I smiled as I imagined what his room would look like; a perfectly made bed with books placed neatly on the shelves and probably a small balcony that he could walk out and stare at the sky.

“Not too far off,” Ethel said, breaking the silence. “He is much like you in that sense.”

She stopped at one of the closed doors before pushing it open. As she entered the room, I followed behind her and gaped.

The room was huge, like three of my old bedrooms put together. The large four-poster bed had a dark green comforter and antique sconces were on either side of it. A cherry wood desk was in front of a large window, and there was a door on the left side of the room that led out onto a balcony.

“Ethel, this is…” Yep. Words failed me.

“This is all yours, darling boy.” She patted my shoulder. “Now put your stuff down and make yourself at home. I’ll go put on some tea.”

Once I was alone, I took another minute to take it all in.

Two bookshelves were against one wall, and as I scanned the titles, my heart warmed. They were my favorite books from the library, ones I’d gushed about to Chan. Most were about ghosts or understanding powers, but my favorite of all of them was a book of old Celtic fairy tales. I had often read it aloud to Chan.

He’d helped set up my room. My stomach did that weird flipping thing again.

“I hope everything is to your liking,” a familiar voice said from behind me.

When I turned and saw Chan standing in the doorway, I smiled and approached him. He looked…different. His face seemed as if it had more color than usual, and he was dressed a bit more casual. Well, casual for _him_ , it was still very much old-fashioned with a pristine white dress shirt and charcoal-gray pants.

“It is,” I said. “Thanks for stocking my bookshelf.”

“My pleasure. I know those are your favorites.” He looked me up and down and the area between his blue eyes creased with a frown. “You’re not in costume. No ghost this year?”

I smiled at the memory. “Nah, I’m not feeling up to it tonight. I’m probably just going to unpack and then go to bed.”

“Oh.” His face fell.

“Did you want to go out?” I asked, surprised. He never seemed to want to leave the manor.

Hope shone in his gorgeous eyes before he looked down at his hands. He had such a classic look to him, sharp jawline, perfectly shaped nose, and lips that were delectable. But he also had an innocence that I couldn’t place.

“I planned to visit Mother’s grave again,” he said and looked back up at me with a sad smile. “I do it every Halloween. I can go alone, if you don’t wish to accompany me.”

“Actually, that sounds like a great idea. I’d love to visit my dad.”

I was pretty sure Dad would like that: us being together again on a day that meant a lot to us.

“Perhaps we could go to the coffee shop again as well,” Chan said with excitement in his tone.

How in the hell could I say no to that face?

“I never say no to coffee.”

Chan smiled and grabbed my hand. The contact shocked me. For as many times as I’d been around him the past month and a half, he’d never once touched me, and it seemed as though he’d intentionally avoided doing so.

His hand was kind of cold, but warm too. I wasn’t sure how that was possible, but whatever.

“Thank you, Hyunjin,” he said, gently squeezing my hand before letting go. “I hope our time out helps cheer you. It pains me to see you sad.”

“That obvious, huh?” I asked before sighing heavily.

“No.” He tilted his head in that adorable way. “I just know you.”

My heart fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings, soft and quick.

“I talked to my mom earlier and it put me in a mood,” I said as my throat began to tighten. “She’s so closed off from me and I get the feeling she’s happier without me around. We’ve never been close, but it still hurts, you know? I’m not the son she wanted.”

Chan didn’t stare at me with pity like I’d feared he would. No, he stared with understanding, as if he could relate.

“Sometimes the pressure our parents place on us is much too heavy,” he said.

The sun was setting and by the time we left it’d be cold, so I pulled on a long-sleeved shirt before throwing my maroon hoodie on over it. We walked downstairs where Ethel was placing the cups of tea on the table. Another surprise was that Chan actually sat with us and drank some.

I couldn’t stop staring at him, not only because he was the hottest guy I’d ever laid eyes on, but because something was different that night.

Before we left, Ethel pulled me aside.

“Here. Wear this.” She handed me a necklace that had some gothic looking medallion on it. I gave her a puzzled look, and she said, “Remember what I said about there being some spirits who will seek you out tonight?”

_Oh crap._ The veil between the spirit realm and ours was thin that night, which allowed the dead to walk the earth again.

“This will protect you from them,” she explained. Her eyes flickered to Chan—very briefly—before she focused back on me. “The malicious ones won’t be able to sense you, but you might still come across others.”

“So the creepy woman in the Historic District won’t be able to track me down now?” Goosebumps traveled up my arms at the memory of her decomposed face and pale eyes.

Ethel nodded and put it around my neck. “You’re safe as long as you wear this. It’s a protection amulet.”

I glanced down at it. The black stone was encased in silver, and it reminded me of some kind of vampire necklace. I loved it.

“If only I had fangs,” I muttered. “I could totally be a vampire now.”

Chan smirked. “I can call you Dracula for the night, if you wish, but I much prefer Hyunjin.”

“Be safe, boys,” Ethel said before ushering us out the door. “And don’t stay out too late.”

“How late is too late?”

“You get a Cinderella deal,” she said. “Midnight.”

“Awesome.” I grinned at Chan. “That gives us enough time to take over the whole town and start a zombie uprising.”

Ethel snorted before closing the door in my face.

-

Walking with Chan through town was romantic. In my head anyway. I mean, sure, he hadn’t said he liked me as more than a friend, and he wasn’t holding my hand or anything. In fact, nothing romantic was actually happening, other than the scenarios in my head.

But still.

He walked close enough to me that his arm touched mine, and I’d occasionally feel his hand brush mine too. I wasn’t sure if that was a sign he wanted to hold my hand or not, so I pretended as if I didn’t notice.

“Hyunjin?”

I peered up at him. We were at the graveyard now and there was very little light, but my eyes had adjusted well enough. His blond hair looked white in the dark, and a piece fell across his brow. As usual, I fought the urge to move it aside.

“I like you too,” Chan admitted. “I’ve wished to confess it for a while, but it seemed cruel to do so.”

“Why?”

“Because you still don’t realize the truth,” he whispered, intently staring into my eyes. “I thought you would’ve discovered it by now.”

“You could always make it easy on both of us and just tell me, you know,” I pointed out.

“Did you just flutter your eyelashes?”

“What? No.” _Oh my god, I had,_ and I was glad it was dark enough to hide the blush that was for sure flooding my cheeks. Without even meaning to, I’d tried being flirty to get what I wanted. I wondered if the protection amulet also gave me a confidence boost.

“May I ask a favor of you?” Chan stepped closer and cupped my cheek.

I leaned into his hand, liking the feel of him way more than I probably should have, and nodded.

“The next time you research death records, look more into the history of the manor.”

With how lovey-dovey I felt in that moment, he could’ve asked me to cluck like a chicken and I would have.

“Sure.” But then as his words registered, the warm fuzzies in my chest fluttered off. “Wait. Why do you want me to look at death records?”

Right as the question left my lips, a horrible thought came to mind. His mother. Had he killed her? Maybe she had turned evil or something and he’d had to kill her. It was a stretch, but anything could happen. It would explain why I felt so much shame coming from him when he talked about her. He felt guilty about _something._

“Please promise me you will.” He stepped back and looked toward a row of graves.

“Okay. I promise.”

Both relief and fear struck me, and I studied the lines of his face, wishing I could read his mind. My gift really was a curse sometimes. It sucked to know how people felt but not why they felt that way.

As Chan went to his mom’s grave, I went to my dad’s.

“Hey, Dad,” I said, sitting beside the tombstone. The ground was cold on my butt, and I shifted uncomfortably. “Well, it’s Halloween again. Remember when you put on that old man mask and hid in my closet? And when I came home from school, you jumped out and made me scream so loud I went hoarse?” I chuckled at the memory. “I was so mad at you, but then you took me out for ice cream. I’d give anything to hear your voice again.”

Halloween was the one night of the year when the dead could come back to our realm, and like an idiot, I’d hoped that maybe I’d see Dad. He wasn’t a ghost, though, and he was somewhere way more awesome. I couldn’t picture him in a cloud paradise, but more like a big man cave that had a million flat screen TVs showing action movies, unlimited pizza, and a lot of books.

I’d gotten my love of reading from him. Before I’d been old enough to read on my own, he’d read the first Harry Potter book to me, a little bit each night before bed, and then I’d read them on my own as I got older, but we’d shared that love. It was probably the main reason I loved the series so much.

I grabbed the dog tag hanging around my neck and felt warmth seeping from it. It’d happened quite a few times, and I was beginning to wonder if it was him trying to comfort me. Probably wishful thinking.

After I sat there for a while longer, I stood, dusted the grass off my butt, and walked over to Chan. He was on his knees in front of an old tombstone, one that was cracked in places.

“You ready to get some coffee?” I asked him.

“That would be lovely.” He stood, looking way more graceful than I had.

Before we walked off, however, I glimpsed at the grave he’d been in front of. And I had to do a double take, not believing my eyes.

The woman had died in 1950.

It wasn’t possible for her to be his mother.

_I probably read it wrong._

We were quiet as we reached the gate and left the graveyard. The night was as expected, cool and kind of foggy, which was perfect for Halloween. The two-lane road we walked on had trees on both sides and not a house in sight. It was more in the country, which of course reminded me of all the witch stories I’d heard throughout the years.

There used to be rituals and sacrifices in the woods. Some of the witches were said to have fled Salem during the Witch Trials and took up home at Iris Hollow. I wasn’t sure if any of that was actually true, and I made a mental note to ask Ethel about it later.

“What are you thinking?” Chan asked, peering down at me.

“Just thinking about witches and if the stories are true.” The sound of our feet on the pavement was the only break of silence. Somewhere nearby a bird cawed and I heard a scurrying in the bushes. “And now I’m thinking that we’re gonna get eaten by, like, a werewolf or something.”

Chan laughed, and my heart leapt at the sound. I looked up at him and couldn’t help but smile too when seeing his crooked grin. “Your mind greatly amuses me. Being around you, Hyunjin, is like a breath of fresh air.”

“Glad I could be of service,” I said, feeling my face heat with the compliment. “Hey, Chan?” I stopped walking and faced him. Cars could be heard whizzing past not far from where we were, and I knew we were close to Main Street.

Chan turned to me. “Yes?”

“You said you like me. So…do you…I don’t know…like me in _that_ way? Or do you like me just as a friend?” _Holy crap that had sounded dumb. Kill me now. Put me out of my misery._

Just as I was about to take back the words and walk away from him, Chan grabbed my hands and stepped even closer. “My dear Hyunjin. Are you truly so blind? I’m so taken with you and have been since the night we first met.”

For some reason, I imagined myself in some sappy, Victorian era romance novel. Chan was the dashing gentlemen come to sweep me away from my simple life in the small house I shared with my parents and three siblings. Not that I, like, read those types of books or anything.

“So…” I continued to stare up at him. Normally, I wasn’t so thickheaded, but I needed to actually hear him say the words. For the past month, I’d been crushing on him hard, and it was finally time for me to know where we stood in that sense. “You like me as more than a friend? As in, maybe one day, you’d like to go on a date? Or something?”

Darn him and his handsome face. He did that thing again—the adorable cocking of his head as he smirked.

“I do believe we’re already on a date,” he answered as a humored gleam sparked in his eyes. “Unless, of course, I misunderstood, and if that be the case I apologize.”

“A date to the graveyard? Nothing’s ever been more romantic than that.”

Chan gripped my chin and tilted my face up. Heat spread through me despite the coolness of his skin. “Where we are doesn’t matter, just as long as I’m there with you.”

It was probably the most romantic moment of my life, and it wasn’t until my lungs started to burn that I realized I wasn’t breathing. Apparently, I didn’t do romance well. Sucking in a breath, I then blinked and placed my hand on his side.

“You can’t do that,” I said with a snort. “Be so romantic. I don’t know how to process it.”

His brow scrunched. “Would you prefer me to stop?”

“No.” I grabbed him tighter as he’d started to pull away.

“You are such a mystery, Hwang Hyunjin.” Chan smiled and smoothed his thumb across my bottom lip. “You wish to have more than friendship from me, yet when I show my affection, you stop breathing.”

“You kind of have that effect on people,” I said with a light laugh.

A smile touched his lips the same way he touched my cheek, soft and shy. “You’re cold. Let’s continue to the coffee shop.”

Yeah, the temperature had nothing to do with the goosebumps on my skin. That was all Chan’s doing. It seemed like a dream that he’d ever feel the same way about me as I did him, and it was hard to believe it was real. That _he_ was real.


	14. chapter thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year everyone! hope 2021 will be better but tbh i doubt it lmao say sikeeee. aNYways i wanted to end the year with a bang so i hope you enjoy this chapter! love u

Main Street wasn’t as busy as I’d thought it’d be. There were a few people here and there, but for the most part, they were all inside somewhere—in the cafes, bars, and shops. With each group of people we passed, I caught myself looking at them, wondering if they were human. Which was sort of silly in a way, but with everyone dressed in costume and having blood splattered all over them—or having other wounds—it was the perfect cover for a ghost.

I half-expected to see the dead man amongst them, but a gut feeling told me he was too lost to leave Heejin’s house; too stuck in his own misery. I’d tried to keep my promise to him and I’d been researching more about his death. Hopefully I’d find answers soon.

Chan and I entered the coffee shop, and I ordered our lattes before we went to the same table we’d sat at a year ago.

He smiled a lot more that day, as if the usual pressure weighing down on him had lessened. Color was in his cheeks and he seemed younger almost. More carefree than his usual prim and proper demeanor.

As we drank our coffee and shared a piece of lemon cake, I blabbed about anything and everything. Which he didn’t mind. After telling him about Changbin and how the bullying had eased up a lot—something I was sure Minho had a part in—I talked about the art project from school where we’d had to draw something that scared us.

“Heejin drew the first ghost we ever saw,” I explained. “I don’t think she’s as scared now of them as she used to be, but for a while, she was kind of messed up over it.”

“And what did you draw?” Chan asked, watching me with an unreadable expression. His brow was narrowed and his stare was unwavering.

“A self-portrait,” I admitted, moving my gaze to my cup.

“Why?”

“Because sometimes I’m afraid of what I am,” I answered in a whisper. “As cool as I find all of this to be, there are times where I’m afraid of the future, afraid of the destiny Ethel says I have. Ghosts don’t scare me, but me not being strong enough to save them does. And what if I turn evil someday?” I finally lifted my gaze back to Chan’s and took courage from his tender expression. “Ethel told me stories of witches and warlocks who went bad. What if my powers start growing stronger, and I turn out to be a bad egg? Like darkness starts consuming me and I can’t stop it.”

Not only had Ethel told me stories of other warlocks doing that, but I’d read about it in one of the books in the library. The more powerful they became, the more susceptible they were to the dark.

“Impossible,” Chan said, sliding his hand across the table and taking mine within his grasp. That spark shot through me again at the contact. “There are many wicked people in this world, Hyunjin, but you are not one of them. You could never be.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you,” he said without missing a beat. He withdrew his hand and I instantly missed the tingling warmth of his skin on mine. “You are the boy who sees a ghost, and instead of running in fear, you wish to help them. You see them in death as they once were in life; mere people who for whatever reason had their lives cut short. That’s why they’re drawn to you, not only because of your empathic abilities, but because of your heart.”

“What about your heart, Chan?” I studied him, seeing the kind look in his eyes turn to one of caution. “You seem to think that whatever I find in the manor’s history will make me see you differently.”

“There’s no denying that you will,” he said before looking outside. The bell tower was across the street, and he softly sighed. “We should be on our way.”

“It’s only ten,” I said. “Ethel gave us until midnight.”

“Yes, but there’s a thing I wish to do before then.” Chan stood from the table and waited for me to do the same.

“What is it?”

When I joined him at his side, he grabbed my hand. “You’ll see.”

We left the coffee shop and went back into the chilly night, hand in hand. I found myself smiling, even though I was confused. There I was holding hands with the guy I’d been crushing on for what seemed like forever. I only wished I knew what he was thinking. He was so cryptic.

_And he says_ I’m _the mysterious one._

Funny how just the simple holding of my hand could mean so much. Two boys holding hands was cause for some people to stare and others to glare. My happiness didn’t come from what they thought, though. No, it came from the small smile at the corner of Chan’s lips as we walked down the sidewalk, beneath the golden glow of streetlamps and the headlights of passing cars.

“Can I ask you something?” I gently swung our hands back and forth.

Chan nodded.

“Okay, well first of all, I didn’t know you were gay, so I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. But I guess my question is, does it bother you? The weird looks we’ve been getting.”

“I stopped caring long ago what other people think of me,” Chan answered in a sad tone. “Life is too short to not chase what your heart wants, Hyunjin. Many people learn that lesson much too late. So this?” He raised our joined hands and placed a kiss on my knuckle. “This pleases me, and I wish to cherish it for as long as I’m able.”

Something about the way he said that made me think his time was ticking. Then again, time was ticking for us all. Some people’s clock just stopped sooner than others.

I was confused when I realized where we were going.

“This mysterious place you’re taking me is back home?” I asked as we turned onto Crestview Street.

“Yes…and no,” he answered with a smile in his voice. “There’s a place in the woods behind the manor that I used to visit often as a boy. It’s been a while since I’ve seen it.”

“Why? You’re home all the time,” I pointed out. “You could go there anytime you want.”

Chan didn’t say anything, but sadness settled in my chest. Ugh. My gift was _very_ much like a curse, more so that night than any other.

We passed through the front gate, and I followed Chan around to the back of the manor and farther still. The gazebo appeared ominous with only the light from the moon highlighting its shape and the dark vines snaking along the sides, but the garden he loved to sit in was still beautiful, even in darkness.

I held his hand tighter, and although a million questions buzzed in my head, I didn’t give them voice. I hadn’t been that far back before, so as he found the fence hidden behind overgrown shrubs, anticipation trickled through me. It was like the feeling I used to get when me and Heejin explored abandoned buildings and random creepy places in town. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed that feeling.

Obscured by the woods, all I saw were trees. Some tall and some even taller.

“Are you scared?” Chan asked, halting in step and facing me. I’d been squeezing his hand a bit tighter.

“No, I’m okay,” I said, and it was mostly true.

“All right.” It was difficult for me to fully make out his facial features in the dark, but I recognized that pull of his lips and knew he was smirking. “I won’t allow any harm to come to you. Unless, of course, werewolves show up. Then you’re on your own.”

“Hah, hah very funny, Chan.”

But then I _did_ hear something that sounded very much like a howl, and I jumped forward, clinging onto his waist.

He chuckled against the side of my head, and if I wasn’t mistaken, he brushed his lips across my temple before stepping away.

We continued our trek through the woods, and even though I’d complained a little about the dark, I was having fun. When Heejin and I’d used to go exploring, I’d been the one to take charge and rush into a dark, rundown building like it was nothing. So in other words, I was faking being afraid in order to get closer to him.

By the smirk on his face, I got the impression he knew it too.

Soon, I heard running water.

“There’s a stream back here?” I asked, squinting in the dark and trying to make out what was ahead of us.

It was a stupid question, because why else would I have heard water?

The ground sloped a bit, and Chan kept a firm hold on me. His protectiveness made the butterflies awaken in my belly again. I could take care of myself, but there was just something amazing about having him take care of me too. We were in a small clearing now, with an opening above that welcomed the silver light of the moon.

When he sat at the bottom of the hill, on a rock jutting from the ground, I sat beside him, and together we looked at the thin stream. It was too dark to fully appreciate the place but my eyes were adjusting well enough.

“What’s so special about this place?” I asked, turning my body toward him.

“It’s where I’d come to play when I was younger,” he answered. “The sound of the stream soothed me. I’m pleased it’s still here, actually. It’s been many years.”

“You’re not that old,” I said. “It couldn’t have been _that_ many years ago.”

Again, he said nothing.

“Do you know the time?” he asked after a minute or so.

I pulled my phone from my hoodie pocket and checked it. “Almost eleven-fifteen.”

“I wonder if Cinderella felt this way,” he said in a tone that made my heart ache. “At the ball with the man she loved, but with time chasing after her. With the stroke of midnight, she’d no longer be a princess and the magic would end.”

I didn’t like the sadness I felt from him.

“Are you trying to tell me you’re a princess, Chan?”

He laughed, and I reveled in the sound. It was a little raspy and adorable. Then, he angled his body toward mine and inched closer to me. His hand caressed down my cheek and stopped at the top of my neck. “That’s one reason I find you so irresistible, Hyunjin. You make me laugh and forget about what I really am.”

His face was so close to mine that I could feel a tickle of his breath on my lips when he talked.

“What are you?” I asked as my blood rushed through my veins at lightning speed.

“I feel as though you know the answer to that question,” he said, rubbing his thumb along my jaw and staring into my eyes. “But you refuse to see it.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and hesitantly reached out to grip the back of his neck.

God, he was so close to me, but I wanted to be closer. I didn’t want to think about what he’d meant about me knowing the answer—because deep down, I felt he was right, that I _did_ have a suspicion, but it was too horrible for me to even consider. I didn’t want to think about any of that; I just wanted to cherish the moment.

“Hyunjin?” Chan moved to where our lips were nearly touching. “May I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, I closed the distance between our mouths and pressed my lips to his. The sensation of his mouth was unlike anything I’d imagined. When I saw people moaning and clutching onto each other in movies, I’d often found it to be silly that kissing someone would be _that_ incredible.

Boy was I wrong.

Chan’s lips were soft, yet firm. He kissed me slow and unhurried. Savoring me just as I was savoring him. That’s also when I noticed he was trembling. Or was that me? I didn’t know. He parted his lips and allowed my tongue inside, and I couldn’t contain the longing sigh.

Kissing Chan was a lot different than practicing on my pillow. I mean, my pillow never kissed me back.

I clung onto him tighter and deepened the kiss, moving my tongue on his. He tasted sweet, but also earthy, like the rain. It was my new favorite flavor, and I couldn’t get enough. Desire burned in me, traveling through my veins and gathering in my belly. Then going even farther down.

Chan gently laid me back, still with our mouths joined, and hovered over me. His hands glided down my sides before taking hold of my hips, and when he pressed against me, I clutched onto his shoulders with a groan.

Being an empath, I felt my own desire, but also his, making me whimper and pull away from his lips.

“I apologize,” he said, starting to get off me.

“No, it’s okay.” I wrapped my arms around him, keeping him from leaving my embrace. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just…well, it’s a bit overwhelming. It’s like double the intensity because I feel your desire too.”

Understanding flashed on his face right before he smiled and settled back on top of me. He cupped my cheek and pressed a light kiss to my lips. “I’ve never done this. You are my first.”

My heart soared, and I smiled so wide I was surprised the corners of my lips didn’t crack open.

“You’re my first too.”

First kiss. First…love. I gulped at the revelation. There was no way I was going to tell him _that_ , though.

Suddenly, my happiness was overshadowed with worry. Chan’s eyes looked pained before he pulled away. I sat up and reached for his hand, which he allowed me to take, and entwined our fingers.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, concerned about the change in his mood.

“Why couldn’t I have found you sooner?” His voice was thick with emotion, and even in the dark, I saw his eyes shine with unshed tears. “You could’ve saved me.”

_Saved him from what?_

That horrible thought flashed through my head again, and I forced it away. So much grief was coming from him that my eyes watered too, and I pulled him against me, burying my face in his blond hair.

-

By the time we made it back home, it was nearly midnight.

“Sleep well, Hyunjin,” Chan said, standing with me in the doorway to my room and holding both of my hands in his. When he leaned forward, I met him halfway, and we kissed. Minutes ticked by, and he seemed like he didn’t want to let go.

I didn’t want to let go, either.

The grandfather clock at the end of the hall chimed, counting down the last seconds until midnight. Chan clutched onto me, running his hands through my hair as he kissed me so deeply that the breath left me.

That’s okay, though, who needs to breathe anyway when you’re being kissed like that?

The seventh chime sounded, and he gripped my nape, pressing his forehead to mine. Dread and worry poured off him, but so did another emotion…one that I felt deep in my heart, but never in a million years would’ve thought he felt too.

The tenth chime had him pressing his mouth to mine once more before stepping away.

And at the stroke of midnight, the small amount of color drained from his cheeks and his body seemed to flicker before he walked down the dark corridor and vanished from sight.


	15. chapter fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eeek i'm sorry for not updating for so long ;//// i guess i brought writer's block with me to 2021 lmao buT i hope you'll enjoy this chapter :)

**W** aking up in the manor that first morning, I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. It was raining, and the gentle patter against the window added with the dreary light made me want to snuggle back into the covers and go back to sleep.

_Stupid school_ , I sighed to myself.

Halloween had just _had_ to be on a Wednesday, and Chan and I’d stayed up until midnight, and actually, much later if you counted the extra two hours I spent lying in bed thinking of him. Kind of like I was doing now.

My mind told me the truth, that I knew his secret. Yet, my heart refused to admit it. Refused to even consider its existence, because if it was true I might not recover from the pain of it.

A knock on my door jolted me out of my head.

“Hyunjin?” Ethel said from the other side. “Rise and shine, boy, you have school.” A complaint was on my lips, but then she said, “I made you breakfast.”

Getting out of bed didn’t sound so bad anymore.

“I’m up,” I called in a raspy tone.

A chill nipped at my bare chest and arms as I got out of bed and hunted for some clothes. The hunt wasn’t too difficult, seeing as to how I’d been too lazy to unpack any of my things the day before. I dumped the duffel bag onto the bed and searched through the various black shirts until I found one that didn’t smell.

I needed to do laundry. _Ugh._

With my clothes in hand, I left the bedroom and walked out into the hall. It was dark. More so than usual. Partly due to the cloudy day, but also because the place just naturally had dark, winding corridors and mysteries hidden within the walls. I freaking loved it. But not so much when I was half-asleep, cold, needing to pee, and not remembering where the closest bathroom was.

“Good morning.”

I shrieked at the voice before flipping around and seeing Chan a few feet away. He leaned against the doorframe to my bedroom and smiled. I was glad to see he was in better spirits that morning. He’d seemed so sad when telling me goodnight.

That’s when I remembered I was shirtless and just wearing sleep pants. I moved the jeans and shirt I held in front of me, trying to shield my torso.

“Good morning,” I finally said. “Did you sleep okay?”

Chan approached me. I was standing near a window that gave a view of the backyard, and as he came more into the light, I was once again stunned at the sheer beauty of him. I wasn’t really a sappy kind of guy, and using words like _beautiful_ to describe him seemed odd, but honestly it was one of the only words to do him justice.

“It would’ve been much more pleasant if you’d been beside me,” he said, reaching out to touch me, but then stopping before he made contact. He withdrew his hand and dropped his arm to his side. “I must say, seeing you every morning…like this…it makes my existence more bearable.”

My cheeks flamed and I shifted in place. The memory of his mouth on mine, of his hands tangling in my hair and his breath on my skin, well it certainly woke me up in more ways than one. Completely mortified at the thought of him seeing said awakening, I acted fast.

“Um, sorry, but I _really_ have to pee,” I said before turning and practically running down the corridor toward the bathroom at the end.

I could’ve sworn I heard a raspy laugh before I shut myself inside.

When I emerged from said bathroom about fifteen minutes later, having taken a shower and tried my best to pat down my mop of black hair, I descended the stairs to the bottom floor. The dome above the staircase let in the gray light from outside, and the rain still poured, tapping on the glass.

The fireplace in the sitting room crackled and popped, and I sighed at the warmth. No one else was in the room so I went over and stood in front of the fire, warming my butt. Don’t ask. It was awesome, though.

“Once your buns are toasty, come sit and eat your pancakes.” Ethel walked into the room holding a plate of food in one hand and a small mug in the other.

Grinning, I went over and sat at the table. “Thanks, Ethel. You didn’t have to cook for me.”

“I know I didn’t have to, boy, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to feed a growing boy.”

“What about Chan?” I asked as my stomach knotted.

Ethel actually looked stunned a moment before shrugging it off. “Oh, well, you know how Chan doesn’t eat much.”

“So, he’s homeschooled?” I asked as I started to eat the pancakes, which were out of this world amazing. Chan had told me before that he was homeschooled, so I had my answer, but maybe I just didn’t believe it. Something was off. Way off.

“Eat or you’ll be late for school,” Ethel said, nodding to my plate. She then sat a mug in front of me. “And drink your coffee. You have dark circles under your eyes.”

“Is that a subtle way of saying I’m ugly?”

She rolled her eyes, and I smirked before taking a drink.

“Hey, do you want this back?” I asked, suddenly remembering I was still wearing the protection amulet from last night.

“Keep it,” she said, giving a dismissive wave of her hand. “Malicious spirits might not be able to leave their dwellings now, but that doesn’t mean they can’t still hurt you if you walk into their domain.”

“Well, that’s awesome to think about so early in the morning.” I touched the necklace around my neck that hung a little lower than Dad’s dog tag. “Thanks, though. I kinda love it.”

“You’re welcome.”

After I ate and downed the coffee, I stood and gave her a hug. “Thanks for everything. For letting me live here, for accepting me, and for not strangling me when I say something dumb.”

Ethel smiled and ruffled my hair. “Take my car and go to school.”

“Wait. What? Your car?”

“You have your driver’s license, yes?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“No _buts_ about it,” she said, wagging her finger at me. “It’s cold and rainy outside, so you are _not_ walking.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Mom had hardly ever let me drive her car and most of the time she had no problem letting me walk to school in the rain. Heejin would pick me up and take me on those days.

She gave me her keys, and I shrugged on my jacket before walking toward the front door. Chan met me there.

“Drive safely,” he said, keeping at least a foot distance between us.

I wanted to snuggle against his chest so bad, to have him hold me just like he’d done the night before. I missed his earthy scent and how he made me tingle all over just by being in his arms. Last night, he couldn’t keep his hands off me, but now it was like he was afraid of getting too close. It was confusing.

“I will,” I said, dithering in place, not sure of whether I should try to hug him goodbye or just walk out the door.

Longing appeared in his eyes, as did sadness, and I wondered if he was struggling with that same decision. “Are you going to the library today?”

He didn’t mean the one at the manor, but the public library where I did research on the ghosts.

“I think so.”

“Remember what I requested of you, Hyunjin,” Chan said before stepping back. “And please know how regretful I am for allowing it to go this far.”

My patience was at its end. I wanted to grab him by his shoulders and shake him, demanding he tell me what he wanted me to know. The truth was there, in my mind, but I couldn’t face it.

Chan gave a short bow of his head before walking back down the corridor, and I stared after him like a lost puppy.

My phone rang, and I fished it out of my pocket. “Hello?”

“Do you need me to pick you up, doofus?”

“Nah, Ethel is letting me take her car.”

“Wow, I hope she isn’t attached to her car.”

“Shut up, brat,” I said with a scoff. “I’m a way better driver than you.”

“Jinnie, you ran into a tree that was _literally_ the only thing in an otherwise empty field.”

It’d been before I went to take my driver’s test, and Heejin had been letting me practice with her car. She’d taken me out into the backroads of town that was mostly country roads and fields, and I’d managed to hit the only tree in sight. Luckily, it hadn’t damaged the car and had only been a soft _thud_ , because I’d only been going like ten miles an hour.

I smiled at the memory. “Hey, you have to learn somehow.”

“Get your ass to school.”

-

“I think I found something!” Heejin exclaimed from beside me.

The librarian shushed us and we pursed our lips, trying not to bust out laughing. Why was it always so funny when you got in trouble with your best friend? We could be anywhere—in class during an exam, at church during the few times our parents had made us go, or at the movies, and the fact that we _had_ to be quiet just made us laugh even more.

Minho, who was on the other side of me, jumped out of his seat and went to squat down beside Heejin’s chair, looking at the screen.

He’d approached us yesterday at school and just kind of started hanging out with us. He and I’d texted some over the past two weeks, and even though we weren’t suddenly close friends, I was beginning to get that vibe from him. The sharing of a supernatural bloodline probably aided in that connection, even if I still had no clue what his bloodline _was_. When we’d been on our way to the library after school that Friday to try to find more information about the ghost in Heejin’s room, he asked if he could tag along.

Three brains were better than two, especially since he knew about all the paranormal stuff already and wouldn’t think we were crazy.

“Okay, we’ve been looking up deaths in my house,” Heejin said. “And honestly, ew. I didn’t need to know that there’ve been three people who died there. The freaking real estate agent could’ve disclosed that fact, but whatever.”

“What’s your point, Heej?”

She snarled at me before sticking her nose up like the brat she was. “Well, I did some more digging, and it turns out that our ghost didn’t die in my house. But he died in the house that was there before mine was built. So still on the same property.”

I scooted closer and looked at her computer screen. In the early 60s, there’d been another house there that had burnt down. The man who’d lived there was named Robert Vale.

“Looks like dear old Robert here committed suicide,” Heejin said, scrolling down the page. There wasn’t a photo of Robert, but I knew it was him.

“Does it say why?” I asked, hoping we’d get that lucky.

“No,” Heejin answered before arching a finely-plucked brow. “But I’m sure we can find out. Somehow.”

I sighed. That didn’t sound likely.

“Maybe I can help,” Minho said, but he didn’t seem that confident about it. Or maybe it wasn’t a lack of confidence, but more so uneasiness. As if whatever he had planned made him nervous.

“How?” Heejin gave him a challenging look. “Do you have secret powers like Jinnie? And if so, are you going to finally tell us what you are, Lee Minho?”

He shot her a glare before focusing on me. “Sometimes when I go places, I can see things that happened there, like a vision. Mostly, tragedies. Never anything good. Some people have the gift of seeing the future, but I see the past.”

“So you think if you go to Heejin’s house, you can see what happened?”

Minho nodded. “It’s worth a shot.”

Twenty minutes later, we were walking through the front door of Heejin’s house. Heejin’s mom was in the living room, wiping tears from her eyes. Alarmed, I was about to run over and see what was wrong, but then I heard lines from _The Notebook_ coming from the TV.

“Oh, hi,” she said upon seeing us. “Don’t mind me. I’m just dying over here. Food is on the stove, if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks!” I said and started going toward the kitchen, but was stopped when someone grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me backward.

“No time for food right now, Jinnie,” Heejin said before pushing me toward the staircase.

“There’s always time for food,” I whined as I caught a whiff of what smelled like pork chops. Heejin protested and kept hold of my shirt. I sighed. “Fine.”

Once we were upstairs, Minho walked toward Heejin’s bedroom. We followed him and right when we walked through the door, I saw the ghost standing near the window. They saw him too. Heejin gave a small gasp and clung onto my back, and Minho inched closer to him. I felt grief coming off the ghost, and it was intense. So much pain.

Minho kneeled and touched the floor before lowering his head and closing his eyes. A moment passed. Then another.

The ghost lost interest in us and stared out the window again. I’d never wondered before what he was even staring at. As the thought crossed my mind for the first time, I walked closer to the window. Behind him—and trying not to look at the bloody mess of his head—I finally got a view of his line of sight.

The pond.

The person who lived next to Heejin had a huge backyard with two acres of land and a big pond. It was fenced off right now, but it probably hadn’t been when Robert had been alive. Had something happened there?

Minho sharply inhaled before falling backward. He lay on his back and his eyes were rolled into the back of his head. It was trippy, only seeing the whites of his eyes and nothing else. Shudders left him, as did small whimpers.

Heejin fell down beside him and gathered him in her arms. “Minho? Minho, wake up!”

I wasn’t sure what was most shocking; seeing Minho having some kind of fit or seeing Heejin care that he was.

Minho continued to thrash around on the floor, and I went to his side, placing my hand on his chest. That’s when I was hit with a strong punch of fear so intense that I cried out.

Heejin ’s eyes were filled with panic. “Snap out of it, damn you!”

His eyes returned to their pretty shade of brown, and he blinked a few times, as though confused.

“Hey, man. You okay?” I asked, still shaking with the aftershock of fear. What the heck had he seen?

Minho groggily sat up and rubbed at his eyes before his body shuddered again. “It was horrible.”

“You saw what happened to Robert?” Heejin asked. And then, as if just now realizing she was still holding him, she let go and scooted back a little.

Minho nodded. He was paler than usual and a sheen of sweat covered his face. He looked around, probably looking for the ghost, and when he didn’t see him, he looked back at us. “It happened in winter and snow was everywhere. Robert had been drinking a lot that day and not watching his daughter, who looked to be about five or so. She had wandered off outside and went to the pond. Ice had covered it, but it’d been thin, and not nearly strong enough to hold her weight.”

As Minho told us about the daughter dropping into the icy water, I felt a similar dropping in my stomach, like an anchor.

“By the time Robert noticed she wasn’t in the house, it was too late,” Minho continued before releasing a shaky breath. “He found her floating in the pond, her face white and her lips blue. He felt so much guilt for her death that he killed himself not long after her funeral.”

All of a sudden, a chill erupted over my skin and the hairs on my nape stood on end.

Both Heejin and Minho stared at me with wide eyes. Wait…no, they weren’t staring at _me_ …but something behind me.

I slightly turned to the side and bit back a scream. Robert was right behind me, his chin nearly on my shoulder. And yeah, the blown apart side of his head was facing me. It wasn’t gross at all. Nope.

_“Why did I do this?”_ he asked in a fragmented tone.

That was the key to helping him. Younghee had been stuck in this realm because she’d never known what happened to her boyfriend. The not knowing had kept her spirit trapped. Robert was trapped because he didn’t know why he killed himself. His grief must’ve been so strong when he died that he blocked out the truth as to why he’d done it.

Like when Heejin had refused to accept that ghosts were real in an effort to protect herself, Robert had done the same in a sense, but his denial came from him feeling guilty for his daughter’s accident. In turn, that denial and grief was what kept him from moving on.

When I helped Heejin, I’d addressed her and told her the truth. My gut told me, once again, that that’s what I needed to do with Robert too. The phrase _the truth will set you free_ had never been more spot-on.

But I’d also done something else to help her too, something only I could do. My powers. That night with her had been the first time I’d ever done a reverse of my power. Instead of just feeling her emotion, I’d somehow influenced it. I’d sent a wave of calm toward her.

I still hadn’t told Ethel about that part yet. I’d told her I’d helped a ghost move on, but for some reason, I’d been too nervous to admit _how_ I’d exactly done it.

After taking a deep breath, I turned to the ghost. He was standing now, so I got to my feet as well.

Robert stared at me with pale eyes, and his face was devoid of everything that made us human.

“Robert Vale?” I spoke, and his gaze flickered from Minho to me. “My name is Hyunjin and these are my friends Minho and Heejin. We’re here to help you.”

_“Help. Why did I do this?”_ Robert released a low wail before his form flickered in and out. _“The gun’s in the drawer. Heavy. Why?”_

“You had a daughter,” I said, and in an instant, a wave of remorse slammed into me and Robert’s wailing intensified. “She drowned in the pond you’re always staring at.”

_“No.”_

“Jinnie, I don’t think he’s as accepting as Younghee was,” Heejin said from behind me. “He’s going to be stubborn.”

“Robert,” I said again, walking closer to him. “Your daughter fell into the ice and drowned. You—”

_“NO!”_

That’s when a book flew at my head. I didn’t duck in time, and it hit the corner of my eye. I yelped and touched the spot it’d hit. When I pulled my hand away, there was a little blood on my finger. It gave a new meaning to _hitting the books_. It was more like _the books hitting you._

“You okay, Hyunjin?” Minho asked.

“Yeah,” I said and winced. That eye was watery and I rubbed at it before focusing back on the blinking figure near the window.

Robert wasn’t just flickering in and out like an old TV, he was like full-blown flickering, like someone flipping through the channels of that TV super-fast and each channel was nothing but static. That’s how he looked.

“Robert Vale.” My voice was stern. The flickering stopped and he was right in front of me, nearly face to face. “You shot yourself with the gun you kept in your bedside table. You lost your daughter and blamed yourself.”

Another book flew at me, and thankfully I was able to duck that time before it hit me. Robert was angry and confused, but beneath it all, he was also ashamed. I focused on his emotions and took deep breaths. Then, it was like a wave of something lifted off me and went into him. Just like it’d done with Younghee. I was calming him.

_“Why?”_ The ghost moved around the room, disappearing from one spot before reappearing in another.

His anger was gone, though. My calming effect was working.

“You killed yourself out of guilt,” I told him as my eyes watered. His grief was clawing at me too. “You need to accept the truth of what happened. Of what you did. Only then can you move on.”

_“I did this.”_

“Let go, Robert,” I said, slowly approaching him.

His pale-eyed gaze flashed to me, and within those depths I saw a glimmer of acceptance. I was inches from him now and reached out my hand. I knew from trying it with Younghee that I couldn’t touch ghosts; I’d go right through them. But I hoped that somehow it could help him, so I placed my hand over his heart. My hand tingled where I touched him, but it could easily go through if I tried.

I sent another wave of calm, focusing the energy on the hand that touched his heart.

_“My daughter,”_ he said as his eyes glistened. _“My beautiful little girl.”_

His body started to glow with golden specks, just like Younghee’ss had. A peaceful expression replaced the look of anguish. Golden light shot in all directions before he was gone.

And then I collapsed.

**Author's Note:**

> this story is gonna be a chaotic mess but what's new
> 
> lol lemme know your thoughts so far ;)


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